no leaf
unturned, searching for
any grubs hiding below.

January Joy 18

Searching for joy,
what can I see?
A bright breasted robin
in the bare cherry tree
flit down to the feeder,
grab just one seed,
then into the hedge
at remarkable speed.

Safe Place

Why is it I can never find
the thing I’m looking for?
The hours I waste
searching out that safe place
where it was stashed away,
knowing I can be sure
that it will turn up again one day
when I don’t need it anymore.


Searching for warmth
the shadows stretch out
to where the sunbeams fall.

Site content copyright of Elizabeth Leaper (Libby).

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