Poem in your pocket day to celebrate Poetry Month.


Night Play

While darkness accumulates,
she sheds expectations
like chameleon lace.
A waterwheel of wings
rattles her window;
the pane rises
in the Moonhawk’s beak.
She slips inside his coat
feathered by scent of cloves,
moves behind his eyes.
They fly beyond
an eyelash of moon
until dawn’s pulse
sends a bead of honey
to her lips.
She returns
hungry for words.
- Penny Wilkes

Sunday, April 19, 2026

Why Did the Goslings . . .

 Why did the goslings cross the road?

They had no yolks to share?
They saw a big fork ahead?
A big goose honked at them?


Sea Squirrel Fun

Watched a sea squirrel experience a blueberry. Took it in his mouth. Held it with his paws. At first, licked and twirled it. Then bit in and tasted its flavor. Kept at it with a smile.