Worries of a Lapland Longspur that I imagine while I read about an orange-haired man wreaking havoc. (A 420-character 9-line poem)

Is he wondering where is the endless Arctic Circle Nunavut summer sun
& my dear lady,
or that perfect site I claimed by flying 30’ up, then gliding,
warbling all the way, to the hummock below?
& where did the 100’s of other Lapland Longspurs go
(& how this so ISN’T the Great Plains)
& why am I w/ a hallelujah of Horned Larks (& maybe 2 Snow Buntings?)
methodically plucking seed from a stubble corn field in Ct?
Is he!

-By Patty

caveat: When I find myself perseverating on Trump, rather than doing something to offset one of his actions (write a letter, make a call, speak up when a red-hatter spouts a conspiracy theory, donate to a group that’s suing to stop an action,etc) I switch to focusing on a new topic that puts me smack-dab in the present. Studying up on the Lapland Longspur did it for me today. (But, hmmm, I’ve GOT to find a juxtaposition for this species long hind toe, its “larkspur,”…doesn’t it seem to beg for a 420?)

Letter to a grandboy

Wide awake to bunny tracks; a 420 character, 9-line poem

Tracking bunnies makes me hungry.

I spy long parallel splashes of hind feet followed by smaller fore paws;

the prints are 5’ apart; she’s going fast,

but here she paused to gnaw at the cherry trunk; only the hind feet show.

Next she hopped gently (the tracks just inches apart)

into the shelter of Hemlock trees.

I lift a bough to search for tracks & find Snipped Tips!

A bark & greens lunch. My tummy rumbles.

Tracking

PATTY