Tag: hazeljhall
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at dawn
we sit on the docks waves pushing and pulling against the pier coming and going as we lose all our days tomorrows and todays years and years lead us here, all testament to our loneliness craze. Poetry and photography by Hazel J. Hall.
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The Brown-headed Cowbird
A female brown-headed cowbird will lay her eggs in another nest, hoping they will be taken care of. Not enough food to go around,one too many screaming, screeching heads. Of young nestling beaks, still opening wide, never satisfied. The mother bluebird hunts twice as much, twice as hard. She is always tired when she comes…
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Some Dancing Birds
Jungle mist clinging to the edge of the woods. Of brightly colored flowers and feathers amongst the chaos of the trees. Birds hoping to survive for their purpose of having the most wonderful, well-kept downy. Perfection is an expectation, though an unknown concept to the bird, who knows each belief or instinct or natural inclination…
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How to Fly
Extending the wings of their newfound body, the baby cardinals open their fledgling feathers to the breeze. The ground, far beneath their feet, terrorizes their early thoughts; looking into the void of spiraling wilderness and wildlife. The universe is as big as the forest. Their parents demonstrate the flight technique, urging their young to try…
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Kingdom of Earth
Now it storms, snow falling, melting into the cracks and crusts of the Earth, building a kingdom This room will be the palace. The mouse scurries from the falling flakes, cold against her nose. She plunges into her home, digging a throne for her slumber. Coming home empty-pawed, the barn cat will curl beneath the…
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Time Bottle
A blip within this moment, within this forever. One grain of sand falling, becoming like all the rest in the hourglass time bottle. Hero heralded to myth of memory, of being known within the folds of this universe; made by each hand yet known to be molded by the few rather than a little bit…
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Chickadee (dee) (dee)
evening comesand the little bird sings chickadee-dee-dee. nothing matters in the most wonderful way. soothing waves washing over soft sand beds and children giggling beneath the sun. it’s a game. so they win. stars shine wonderfully unknowing to everything but the beautiful insignificance of the world for now they shine. tomorrow doesn’t matter. Poetry and…