April 2022
Bio Note: Hello, I'm a retired psychologist living in the Northwoods of Wisconsin, grateful for time to write. I'm in awe of the regenerative powers of nature, its metaphors and lessons. My idea of a perfect day is either spending it in woods or on water, or with my five delightful grandsons. I volunteer with the Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets as a regional VP, and my latest poetry collection is titled Something Novel Came in Spring (Water's Edge Press, 2021).
This One
Baby sea turtles, like tiny tanks in an army,
advance over stones, around driftwood, across sand,
as cohorts fall to attack gulls and frigates.
Ghost crabs scurry from burrows to ambush,
to snatch them up. Little leatherbacks in ancient
reptilian cadence march, hatchlings who have never
tasted salt will spend their lives at sea.
The ocean reaches out, draws them in—
to the jaws of a rockfish, a barracuda, a tiger shark—
one in a thousand survives. Ten years later this one
will emerge in moonlight on powerful limbs,
to lay her clutch of eggs.
The Psychology of Rough Weather
Rain pummels the lake’s lily pads
into a frenzy of wobbles and whirls,
starry blooms lurch in anxious water.
Hummingbirds duel like fighter jets
for feeders beneath dripping eaves,
lilacs scatter in sleet, torrential rain.
In this deluge I must remember
lily pads are tethered to roots,
lilacs go dormant, hummingbirds
fly over endless ocean,
all to return in spring.
©2022 Nancy Austin
Editor's Note: If this poem(s) moves you please consider writing to the author (email address above) to say what it is about the poem you like. Writing to the author is what builds the community at Verse Virtual. It is very important. -JL