Three Poems by Jennifer Lagier

 

Acorn Woodpecker

 

Red-headed hoarder

hammers storage holes into the trunk

of a twisted coastal oak

or convenient Monterey Pine.

 

He slides bullet-shaped acorns

into waiting granary chambers,

an avian Pancho Villa

reloading dead wood bandolier.

 

At twilight, he swoops from tree limbs,

nabs May flies, swarming termites,

drills live bark for a restorative nightcap

of thirst-quenching sap.

 

 

Murder in the Afternoon

 

Daily, a flock of ebony crows

swoops over roof tops,

descends to forage

among damp mulch

in neighbourhood yards.

 

Glossy blackbird rosaries

bead sagging power lines.

Pigeon-toed delinquents strut along sidewalks,

perch on white picket fence,

jeer all who pass.

 

When challenged by barking terrier,

they squawk in protest,

flap just beyond reach,

take refuge upon tree limbs

where they continue to scold.

 

The mob arrives around 4:30 p.m.

as if punching a time clock.

Abrasive invaders descend,

raucously murder afternoon peace.

 

 

 Colibri

 

Iridescent sprites probe scarlet petals,

whirr above awakening ceanothus

as orange sunrise blossoms.

 

Tiny scolds brandish needle beaks,

chirp at territorial invaders,

hector trespassing dogs.

 

I admire white iris unfolding

along picket fence perimeter.

A hummingbird halo orbits my head.

Jennifer Lagier lives a block from the stage where Jimi Hendrix torched his guitar during the 1967 Monterey Pop Festival. She taught with California Poets in the Schools, edits the Monterey Review, helps coordinate Monterey Bay Poetry Consortium Second Sunday readings. Jennifer has published nineteen books, most recently: Meditations on Seascapes and Cypress (Blue Light Press), COVID Dissonance (CyberWit), and Camille Chronicles (FutureCycle Press). Forthcoming: Weeping in the Promised Land (Kelsay Books), Moonstruck (CyberWit), Postcards from Paradise (Blue Light Press).

Website: jlagier.net
Facebook: www.facebook.com/JenniferLagier/