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December 2022
Robina Rader
robrad21@gmail.com
Bio Note: I am a retired reference librarian. I have moved many times, living in places as distant and diverse as New Jersey and Okinawa. I now live in State College, Pennsylvania, where I write poetry and short fiction in the stimulating environment of a university town.

Sounds Like

I hadn’t seen my cousin Bill
since his heart attack, 
but we spoke on the phone one day,
and when I heard his deep resonant voice
I told him, “You sound just like your father.”
I could hear the smile in his voice
as he returned the compliment,
saying, “You sound like your mother.”
                        

Starling

The place was overrun with starlings –
pesky, dirty, noisy things.
Time to discourage them,
get them to leave.
One way or another.

Will sat at the third-floor window
with his pellet gun, waiting.
A starling settled on a branch
of the old Red Maple, at 
just the right height.

One shot, and down it plummeted, 
but before it reached the ground,
a hawk, keen-eyed and quick,
swooped in and carried it off
without even saying
“Thanks for the lunch, Will.”
                        
©2022 Robina Rader
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