Autumn
By Peter Trull
When in the course of sustaining my view
Of Nature daily as I walk
there comes to me from natures blue
Far more than furtive natures talk
seeing is not with the eyes
nor hearing from my yearning ears
I touch not with these fingertips
my heart - my mind - my blood - my fears
While contemplating mysteries yet
of Nature daily as I walk
there comes to me from Natures green
a failing thrush a striking hawk
in verdurous leaves doth life abound
the birds so close so loud so still
like factories falling to the ground
Those leaves alive frost forthwith kill
East
By Peter Trull
The east wind speaks volumes
It comes to me
I see it
It is the wind that brings the sea
She is onerous
yet she brings birds
The east wind speaks volumes
Each second of my life
I wait for her
From Canada or George's
With no trivial subtleties
I watch the wind
She is gray
Shearwater
By Peter Trull
Too many birds for one to see
August on the open sea
As billow builds to boundless trough
my pinions stiffly streak and laugh
Under gales - such force implores
To drive me on to ancient shores
Effortless I glide and sway
With miles to go, no dark or day
Wind and whales, food forever
Ravenous, gluttonous birds endeavor
To cross the equator spring and fall
Penguins, puffins, I stir them all
Cetaceans in reverence and in slaughter
Been there and back
Seen it all
Shearwater