The next five are from last weeks online thingy. I wrote this one last Monday, having just got back from a week at Squaw Valley Community of Writers workshop.
It was an amazing experience that I'm still digesting.


WEATHER AT SQUAW


Sitting in the big room at the lodge
Yesterday there was a bird in the room
Desperate to get out.
But patently ignoring the open doors
For the myriad crumbs on the floor –
Feasting on them and maybe the words too.

Today there’s a huge storm
Flinging itself through the sky
And clawing its way over the peaks
Forcing the Aspens to samba
At the point of its guns,
And the bird now wants in.

The b-b shots of hail pull my eyes
Past the words and the big windows
This storm is the loudest guest speaker here,
But nobody’s taking notes.