The car drove down the road. Another heavy thing rolled across my surface, though not as heavy as some of the others. And that, my child, was the killing place of millions. Before that flat, hardness was there, we had villages and colonies all over in this place. Then monstrous things came and killed and … Continue reading What’s Going On Here? by Duane L. Herrmann
The water bottle,Best for a refillableThen a single use.
My journals tell truths.Years yearn to show me patterns.If only I’d learn.
Chainsaw cutslimbs, now...I'm one foot less.
They tried to sell us egg foo youngFoo young with shrimp and oyster sauce.Though we were not hungry yet,We agreed to try their omelet. Foo young was just a word.And omelet was all we heard.So someday we may not recallThat we ate foo young at all.
"I got for," my little four-year old brother announced one day as we were going somewhere in the car. "What?" Our distracted mother asked. "I got for," he repeated. "You have four of what?" Mom asked again, paying some slight attention now. "I got for a peanut butter samwich," my brother seriously stated. "Oh!" Mom … Continue reading I Got For by Duane L. Herrmann
When birds return after winters absence, the trees become alive with joyful sounds. After the silence of winter, broken only by the course cawing of a crow or two, the trilling lilt of songbirds lifts my heart. I know they are claiming territory, and it is serious business on their part, yet that knowledge doesn't … Continue reading Feathered Conversation by Duane L. Herrmann
There are a lot of birds in the Adirondacks that you can talk with, if you know their language. Some Adirondack bird-speak is commonly known, such as the language of the Mallard duck. Mallards pretty much have only one word, “quack.” Mallardese is quick and easy to learn for any novice bird linguist. You can … Continue reading The Birds by Edward Pontacoloni
I know the birds are back every year because of my two cats, Nutmeg, and Jinxy. The moment a bird lets out a chirp, one of them is in the window, crying, or making a strange clicking noise. The clicking noise, I was relieved to discover, is a completely normal sound cats make.I’ve seen all … Continue reading Birds of Spring by B.L. Miller