The sky is gray,

the woods still, quiet –

the air seems to pause,

expectant, waiting

for the coming front

to bring wind, rain, cold.

 

The air smells of jasmine, 

blooming early,

Bougainvillea spills over a wall;

will bougainvillea and jasmine

survive the coming cold?

 

I meet a friend,

walking a dog named Emma –

he says Emma is feeling slow;

I note her graying muzzle.

An elderly man walks his blind dog –

he waits patiently

while she sniffs her way around. 

 

The world outside

may be falling apart

but here, in the woods,

with the scent of jasmine,

and the love I see,

for the good old dogs,

I find a moment of peace,

a moment with God!

Joyce Alexander 2/26/20

It is the season for the birds

in the park where I walk –

Today there was a woodpecker

with his red cockade and black coat –

and a small heron

with blue-gray feathers.

 

But mostly,

there are white-feathered ibis

with long curving beaks,

and gulls –

sweeping and soaring,

skimming the water,

settling on pier rails,

screeching a raucous racket,

to the world —

 

demanding food from the humans

who come with their little bags

their offerings to the birds –

and where the humans sit

hunched on benches

scattering crumbs,

the birds gather –

and the green skirts of the lake

are embroidered with the 

white of the gathered birds.

Joyce Alexander, 2-6-20