Unplanned Poetry

I just wrote this haiku over IM, and I thought I would share.

Annie's Laptop

By MangyCat

Five or six years old

Showing age and uselessness

Brokenness defined

And this is a perfect opportunity to post the poem I wrote on Friday night at my young writers group, Midnight Muse. The prompt was (basically) to begin or end with the phrase "listen to the wings of the nightingale watch." I went for the obvious, but I like the juxtaposition of different senses and affects.

The Taste of Migration

by MangyCat

Lines: 16

Listen to the wings of the nightingale watch

for winds blowing strong from the east.

Tawny feathers scent night currents

for autumn's sweet fragrance.

Icy wisps of northern breeze

whistle between avian claws

as auburn beak lances a hint

of the flock's gathering restlessness.

Rustled leaves blush to lime

as green retreats with summer's defeat.

Gales of gold paint quivering teardrops

that rustle around a watchful nightingale.

Alighting frigid whispers,

the bird escapes its roost,

seeking waves of sun,

green, and boundless freedom of wing.