Category Archives: nature

day 208

remnant of flight

along the forest edge I went
to find a feather fallen there
a bird in flight shed it, midair
a tom, he was magnificent!
to find a feather fallen there
along the forest edge I went

~kat

Today has been a good day. The world is still crazy, but…After my day job, fixing dinner for the critters inside and outside, and throwing together a creamy white bean soup with artichoke hearts and spinach for my partner and me, I looked at my evening chore list, several tasks long, and decided after tidying up the kitchen and taking Gabby for a walk, that the chores could wait. As I write, dusk is gently dimming the light outside my window and I have my feet up. Not only is it okay for you to take time for you…it’s okay to check out from the craziness of the world. I promise you, it will all be waiting for you when you decide you’re ready to dive back in.

And those chores, the vacuuming, spot cleaning the carpets, and changing water in the fish tank will wait. None of it is critical. The most important thing is taking care of myself. It’s true I have many souls depending on me. I can’t be there for them, frankly, if I’m not here! 

In fact, the inspiration for today’s poem literally fell from the sky while I was walking my dog. It’s not often the turkeys in these woods take flight, but when they do it is a sight to see! Even better is the fact that I was left with a beautiful souvenir. 

So yes! I am grateful for the lessons of the past week or so where I could barely stay awake while trying to do the very thing that feeds my soul. Writing. I took time for myself this evening. It was and is a good day…a very good day. Sweet dreams are sure to follow! 

Much love, peace, and glimmers to you. 

~kat ✨✨✨💚💚💚✨✨✨

Turkeys in flight weren’t the only things glimmering this evening!


Todays poetry form: the Biolet

It is a six line poem, and like the triolet, the first two lines are repeated as the last two lines, however in reverse. The rhyme scheme of the biolet is ABbaBA (with the capital  letters representing the repeated lines). The length of the lines, can vary, and be either metered or unmetered with 8, 10 or 12 syllables per line. 


yesterday 207

the morning after too much

its insanity
death bit the apple again
‘cause monsters have rights
to wield guns of war
to assault and rape children
to disappear others…
deals with the devil
by the vilest of the beasts
buys them clemency
or seats at the top
no justice, no peace…victims
pay with innocence
a selfish nation
loses its soul drip by drip
on blood stained pages
history repeats
as ignorant blind fools sleep
soundly, unaware

~kat

I ran out of day once again yesterday. I having a hard time managing the steady crushing pace of work, caretaking, and housekeeping that keeps me engaged mindlessly dawn to night fall. Even the pleasant hours of dusk escape me, robbing me of moments to sit, to rest, to write. There is too much to do in this world that is becoming too much to bear. So here I am. It’s tomorrow with an unfinished poem…two lines, maybe three was all I could manage before sleep overtook me. 

There was another mass shooting…this time in New York…more thoughts and prayers of course. There is a monster who preyed on children who is trading secrets for a pardon from our president, who may consider granting it to protect his rich friends (including many suspect himself), who feasted at her table, and to make their ugly story go away. No mention. No justice for the victims. Tariff deals are being penned under the guise of making our country rich, where the fine print clearly states this will be fulfilled by emptying the pockets of we the people as prices rise exponentially. People are continuing to disappear. And children are starving. It’s insanity. On a bright note, at least I recognize that it is!

As promised to you and to myself, I managed the capture some glimmers along the way…yesterday. And so I share them here with you. To hopefully give us something good and lovely to dwell on. I’ll BRB with today’s Day 108!


Poetry Form: a string of haiku style poems.


day 199 ~ ReVerse Sunday – 20 July 2025

Sunday ReVerse - 20 July 2025

anything
tranquility amidst the storm
when you wake up in a cloud, a pea-soupy shroud, thinking out loud…
where fences are for leaning while talking about life and the weather…

the audacious preach virtue in ignorant bliss

it’s not luxury

~kat

A gentle reminder…take care of yourself. That seems to have been the theme of this past week. Even though things have been a little crazy these days, the best thing you can do is remember to take time for yourself. As the last line in the ReVerse says…it’s not a luxury.

I leave you today with photos of a doe and her twin fawns. They are perfect and she is an exceptional mother. This is your moment to take a few moments to breathe.

Much love, peace, and glimmers to you.

~kat ✨✨✨💚💚💚✨✨✨


day 197

well bless your heart

invisible people have privileged gray lives
they never get angry or give in to strife
everything’s rosy, yes, everything’s great
they’re quick to admonish those battered by hate
who dare to feel angry at those who don’t care
dark souls who surrendered to king yellow hair
not enemies, they chide, we’re all the same
treat all with compassion, there’s no one to blame

but I have a feeling that they’ve never known
the sting of oppression, of hate in their home
from people they loved who don’t seem to care
that the vote they cast hurt family somewhere
forgiveness is bitter for those now denied
simple compassion and the right to live life
we don’t want to hear it, your lofty ideals
til you walk in our shoes and know how it feels
when half of the world thinks you shouldn’t exist
the audacious preach virtue in ignorant bliss

~kat

A rant today. I read a well-meaning post on social media that struck me the wrong way. It had a long-winded “why can’t we all just get along” vibe. Heart-felt and a tad naive, its message was also condescending to those of us with bullseyes on our backs. Those of us targeted as other, undesirables who, if the powers that be had their way, would be disappeared from the face of the earth or at least from this country. Condescending…because we’re not allowed to be angry or hold those responsible for this dumpster fire accountable. Admonished to keep the peace. To get along. To forgive and and show compassion to those who would point us out in a heartbeat if it meant finding favor with the powerful in the hopes that they might reap the benefits of the coup they helped fuel. It’s convenient to forgive and forget when you’re not living in a nightmare.

So I wrote a poem…therapy that rescues me from responding directly to such blather. I’ll crawl back under my rock now, and tuck myself in behind the closet door, hoping the monsters don’t find me.

Much love, peace, and glimmers of hope to you. As it happens I was visited today by several mourning doves. Often seen as a symbol of love, hope, peace, and new beginnings, I think mother nature knew I would need some encouragement today. ✨✨✨💚💚💚✨✨✨

~kat

A little love, hope, peace, and the promise of new beginnings…today’s much needed glimmer.


day 196

as the crow 

we have good neighbors here…we rarely see each other, but
if we need them or they us, we’ve an open border policy
where fences are for leaning while talking about life and the weather

~kat

Living in the hills is a breath of fresh air (literally). Unlike our urban friends whose homes are packed tightly into neighborhoods, with walls and windows mere feet apart, artificially lit by humming street lamps, the scent of exhaust fumes and hot rubber settle in the air, the rural space I call home are green, our neighbors, acres away, rarely seen but occasionally heard on crisp quiet nights when sounds carry in the mist…blips of muffled conversation, laughter, the sound of tires crunching gravel driveways.

It it understood, that we look out for one another. Not in the creepy, peer through shades, nosy neighbor way, filling one’s head with juicy gossip to share at the quick stop. I may only see my neighbors these days a few times a year, but we are community.

Isn’t that what we all want after all? A place to call home, to live out our pursuit of liberty and happiness in peace. Somewhere in this devolution of our humanity we’ve lost our way. It’s ironic to me that living so far from civilization makes me feel less alone than I ever felt in the city. Here where scarce neighbors are neighborly and kindness is an unspoken code.

much love, peace, and glimmers of community to you!

~kat ✨✨✨💚💚💚✨✨✨


Sijo

A sijo is a traditional Korean poetic form, characterized by its three-line structure. Each line typically contains 14-16 syllables, resulting in a total of 44-46 syllables for the entire poem. The first line  is introduces a theme or situation, the second line develops it, and the third line introduces a twist or unexpected turn, providing the poem’s conclusion.