in the cemetery
a murder of crows
perched high above
the oak trees
watching the gathering
in silence
nobody realized
they were in attendance
probably curious
about the thermos
a foldable yardstick
and a small wooden box
after the visitors
one by one drove away
so too did the crows
take flight
quietly consumed
by ominous clouds
may two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
where did they go
those cunning demons disguised
as the sweetest little birds
softly waking you
from an early morning
midsummer dream
as if to say everything
will work itself out just fine
as long as you trust
in their ways
february two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
birds in flight
mechanical wings
and roaring sounds
leaving those grounded below
looking skyward & disbelieving
at their majestic maneuvering
their innate desire
to shock & awe
january two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
At the corner bodega
some el gato genial
told me they sell tamales
& mudslides in the musty cellar
after closing time on Friday nights
december two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Out of the blue winter arrives unannounced
a flock of geese aided by northwest winds
settling on a lake locked inside no man’s land
far away from any civilian populations
a flock of geese aided by northwest winds
covering over one thousand miles
far away from any civilian populations
migrating loudly & seemingly effortless
covering over one thousand miles
unaffected by the plummeting temperatures
migrating loudly & seemingly effortless
over forest & mountain & open plain
unaffected by the plummeting temperatures
out of the blue winter arrives unannounced
over forest & mountain & open plain
settling on a lake locked inside no man’s land
december two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
What fool is this I said
walking on shallow water
how can he possibly
play tricks with my eyes
From the locust tree
an owl replied it is the moon
disguised as a man
walking on water
But the moon I said
circles above
with predictable regularity
how can it be
I’ve never seen it before
on the face of the earth
The owl replied
the moon is everywhere
at all times
and will be with you in the grave
when the time is right
But what of the moon
disguised as a man
walking on shallow water
for what purpose is this
The purpose the owl replied
is to illustrate
possibilities are endless
whether on land or water
or any unimaginable place
for that matter
you may have yet to see
august two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
The winds brought in
birds of a different color
black horned raptors
& little white swifties
some sort of gray swallow
just to name a few
They hung out mostly
by bay windows
& electrical substations
performing provocative
aerial shows
to a distrustful citizenry
august two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the birds love it here for many reasons
I wonder if they realize
I love them being here as well
they have no need to know my number
and I don’t need to know theirs
sitting in silence is impossible
as long as they’re around
singing & chatting & discussing
how the winds change their views
the shape & sizes of the clouds above
the colors & textures below
on the back deck I am building
yet another birdhouse
they seem to be engaged & learning
imitating the sawing
the hammering
the sanding
applauding after completion
june two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
bird in my ear
newly purchased
at the five & dime
whispers things
I like to hear
before the storm
there is much chatter
[from the bird in my ear]
until that is
this thing called the lull
casually rolls in
it seems in no time
the bird in my ear
vanished before my eyes
taking with it memories
once instilled
june two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the wetlands are right around the corner
but we’re not going there
instead we’re heading north by northwest
to the grand opening of a discotheque slash karaoke bar
it’s true there are pink flamingos
at the wetlands
this time of year
doing their very own version of the break dance
the winds & crickets
cicadas & amphibians
all contributing to the rhythm of the vibe
the neon lights courtesy of their own imagination
june two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I wonder what they’re saying
chatty birds in nearby trees
clearly heard amid the calm
before the storm
might they be saying
get underground all you fools
or better yet be prepared
to ride with the wind
may two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
night is falling
suspended light dancing
in the sultry air
atop the tall white oaks
blackbirds gather noisily
chattering like subdued maniacs
devising something spectacular
in their mind
there is no disk that is the sun
having been stolen by sorcerers
a wildfire left in its wake
spreading horizontally
like firefighters
the blackbirds take flight
extinguishing all thought as their
collective call fades like a waning siren
consumed by an inevitable destruction
that is illusory at best
april two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
and when the sun becomes
barely visible in the west
and as the winds die down
and cirrus clouds turn deep blue
a cacophony of bird calls
usher in the indefinable dusk
april two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
unseasonably cool
on a sunsetting saturday
european starlings accumulate
atop rows & tiers of downtown parking ramp walls
inviting the attention of passersby
more or less curious
of their rhythmic chatterings
like an orchestra fine tuning
leading up to their eventual shadowing
of the sun
february two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
what am I to solve
before leaving this place
once incapable of refusing
an unwanted invitation
yet this is where I stand
if only temporarily
asking my own questions
to a mind that has seen
many great & terrible things
these possessions of mine
why do they grow
and why am I unable
to rid of them
yet perfectly adept at burying
hand-picked memories
having once fueled me
day by day
only to haunt me by night
but what of the physical
versus the mental
are they really that far apart
but rather intertwined
in such a way
I’ll never fully understand
the connection
—that is as long as I wander
upon rock & water
january two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
death is in the next room
waiting to be called
deleting apps rarely used
on the smartphone
meanwhile in the family room
everyone is alive & well
including the eldest
recently revived
by an emergency room doctor
back in the next room
death stands at the bay window
counting crows gathering atop rooftops
watching the waning crescent
descending past the white pines
january two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 