A Poem by Joanna M. Weston

the pileated woodpecker
hammers his summer song
to a hunting beat
undetered by rain or wind

I listen and watch
as ants and insects
disappear to his rhythm

claws fixed in bark
black feathers sleek
arrogant crest nodding
to the throb of his beak


A Poem by Joanna M. Weston

ripples move out
and on to an edge
where they curtsey
politely swing skirts
and subside
into sand

‘like this’ he says
as the stone leaves
snapping fingers
‘like that’ as the stone
touches touches again
eight nine times
until it slips
into a wave and ripples

Across the Bay

A Poem by Joanna M. Weston

I park
on the bank
just above high-tide

a gust of gulls
takes off low and fast
in a flash of white

followed by
an arrow of ducks
over the gleaming bay

I long
for a camera
but my eyes hold the image

swift against
the ridge of cloud
and rise of islands