Wednesday, March 25, 2015

I Like a Windy Day


I like a windy day,
When the wind comes to tease and play
And we prance and dance around the meadow.

I like the wind to toss the leaves
To bend the trees,
And make them clap their hands.

I like to feel like a wild pony
And run and kick
And toss my mane and tail.

But this fierce arctic wind is a nasty bastard
And I wish he would go back from whence he came.


Kathie Adams Brown (March 22, 2015)

National Poetry Writing Month starts in one week! NaPoWriMo 2015

Sunday, March 22, 2015

A Battle with the North Wind

You roaring wind,
You arctic sledgehammer
pounding out of the north,
I turn my face to you
and beat my wings to fly
You push me back,
You seek to overpower me,
and still my chest expands,
My sinews elastic and powerful as my lungs
fill with your icy breath.

You push me back, and back, and back,
I feel my pinions fill and spread
with the power of your wind,
as we do battle.

You pour a winter’s weariness upon us,
refusing to release your grip,
while I fly on with a fierce hope
into Spring.


Kathie Adams Brown (March 22, 2015)

For World Poetry Day 2015 (One day late!)

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

To Reach for the Sky

Cattle Egret in CA 2012

What joy it is to reach for the sky
Arms open wide
to receive all there is,
or to celebrate
and cheer
With elation.

These arms of mine
So taken for granted
Are essential things
I use them every day—in so many ways;
to hug, to reach, to grasp,
to perform essential tasks!

How wondrously and marvelously made we are,
Birthed into this world, perfectly formed,
We crawl and walk and run through life
Arms outstretched and open wide

As if we were always born to fly.

By Kathie Adams Brown (March 15, 2015)


Common Terns, Chatham, MA 2011

Saturday, March 14, 2015

Gray Day


Looking out the window panes
On a gray landscape;
Gray squirrels playing on gray tree trunks,
Gray sky waiting
Steel clouds billow and flatten
Dove skies bleed
Drops of liquid silver
Dull earth waits for water it cannot absorb
Gray birds sing in wet trees
Late winter rain turns gently to snow
And paints the world in white despair again.


Kathie Adams Brown (March 14, 2015)

Friday, February 20, 2015

Why are You Singing

Tufted Titmouse
Why are you singing, Mr. Titmouse?
Do you not know a blizzard is on the way?
I hear notes of romance
In your song this morning.
Are you declaring your territory,
Or enticing a mate?
It’ll be awhile yet before the nesting is begun,
But just to hear your song gives me hope
—that all is not lost
—that winter is not endless
—that crocuses will bloom again, and
—that somewhere under all that snow, there is, indeed, grass.


~Kathie Adams Brown (February 14, 2015)

Thursday, January 15, 2015

Red Ribbons

Cardinals are the bright
red ribbons in the landscape
calling, "cheer, cheer, cheer"

Wednesday, January 7, 2015

Winter Woods















Winter woods are gray and silent,
Soft, and deep, and frosty,
In pine and spruce scented air,
Ice crystals cling like jeweled lichen,
Birch trees shining silver against the other pewter trees,
Branches all askew,
Reaching for the sky,
With green draped hemlocks
Dancing in the glen,
The whistling winds sings
Winter’s here again.

The tiny trumpet call of nuthatches
Breaks the woodland’s sleep,
And it’s then that I remember,
“I have promises to keep.”
So softly I pad back
Down this winter woodland trail,
To the waiting warmth of my winter cottage,
To my winter woodland home.


Kathie Adams Brown (12-30-14)