Breakfasting With Birds

Fledged in the avian variant of oshkosh with brown spangles on orange bib,

the half-grown robin studied a bit of katydid left behind on the sidewalk,

picked it up, put it down, picked it up, put it down, turned, tasted

and finally ate it,

then tore through the pinestraw in search of slithery treasure buried there,

while a feather’s length away, proud poppa hopped, and with flutter

and chirp, reminded the lad of the need, while out of the nest,

to eat fast and play less.


© dana hughes


The Hickory has gone golden amid a stand of oak,

that wring their paling leaves like ten thousand pair

of worried hands, fretful of the change and annoyed

by the inconstance of green, and so convinced

that loss could be nothing but brown, they

kept their limbs close when Midas wandered by,

finding only one that dared risk the glory of his touch.

©  dana hughes