Autumn Poem

The Little Finch in Autumn

The little finch in autumn

lands on the supple rose stem

and a dance begins.

She is here to peck aphids

and with swift movement,

now seemingly she curls

into a ball.

How quickly she spins

around the stem,

all the time peck,

peck, peck.

The first rosehips,

baubles in this

delicate dance.

And just as quickly

it all comes to an end.

all I see now

is the bobbing stem.

Benita H. Kape © 8.5.2018

Airport – first post (post – NaPoWriMo)

Airport

/running through art galleries /

from: “If Katherine Mansfield Were

My Best Friend” by Nina Powles

We’d been to a Women’s Writers conference and you

and I now laughing, happy, running, into the airport.

Such behaviour not summoning the attention of security

guards in the ‘80’s.

We giggled silly, silly jokes in the face of the ticket seller;

(still not a security guard in sight). His embarrassment

so delicious we hugged, and I said I wanted to fly to

Invercargill with you, and you said you wanted to fly

to Gisborne with me.

Later, I sent a postcard. Only the once I ran laughing and

happy into airports holding your hand. I try not to giggle

when I see security guards.

Note: Seems strange not to have written a poem yesterday. But they are always close to hand and memories bring up new ones.