November Poem-A-Day Challenge
From my Writer's Window
All day, the word strikes small flames
but no fire takes hold, to inspire or
to smoke out Virginia's angel of creativity.
I follow the flight paths of fledgling golden
honeyeaters, and joy flickers, consumes.
Who needs matches when the loquat tree
offers a feast, and bottle brushes inflame?
Even the pink native blossoms offer
a view so inflammatory the back yard
translates into burning questions about life.