Brown Pelican Taking Off — Image by kenne
Brown Pelican Leave a comment
There’s a hard-earned lift in him—
Raseate Skimmer Dragonfly 1 comment
Raseate Skimmer Dragonfly — Image by kenne
In motion, it measures motion—
wingbeats, shadows, the slight wrongness
of something closing in.
Eyes like a net of light
cast in all directions.
Share this:
Blue-eyed Darter Leave a comment
Blue-eyed Darner at Sweetwater Wetlands — Image by kennne
Where reeds bow in wind,
your brief, shining pilgrimage
outlives ancient song.
Share this:
Shore Along The Outerbanks Leave a comment
Shore Along the Outerbanks — Image by kenne
Share this:
Bee On Lemmon Blossoms 2 comments
Honey Bee on Lemon Blossoms — Image by kenne
The lemon tree breathes light,
each blossom a small lantern,
and the bee moves among them
like a keeper of secrets.
What it takes, it gives—
though not to me, not directly.
Still, I stand in the fragrance
feeling included
in a mystery I do not own.
Share this:
A Row Of Mailboxes 3 comments
Mailboxes in a Small New Mexico Town — Image by kenne
Each box is a story painted over rust—
names fading, but never gone.
Abuela still checks hers at sunrise,
like the sun might bring a letter from yesterday.
We are a people of waiting,
of holding onto envelopes like prayers,
addressed to hope.
Share this:
Shadows On The Floor 2 comments
— kenne
Share this:
McCaws In The Amazon 2 comments
McCaws In The Amazon — Image by kenne
In the vast green breath of the Amazon,
three macaw travel together—
not by chance, but by trust.
The universe does not send
companions without reason.
It teaches us, through them,
how to journey without fear.
Share this:
Anna’s Hummingbird 2 comments
Anna’s Hummingbird — Image by kenne
tiny green body,
she hovers where stories live—
between what we say
Share this:
He’s Back Again 1 comment
Gila Woodpecker on the Patio Tree — Image by kenne
there he is again—
clinging sideways to the tree
like a bad decision
that won’t let go.
tap-tap-tap—
no rhythm, no apology.
and I laugh,
because that’s life, isn’t it?
just you
and your stubborn little beak
against something harder.
Share this:
Where Were You 4 comments
Image and Poem by kenne
Share this:
Chipmonk On Prickly Pear Cactus 1 comment
Chipmunk on Prickly Pear Cactus — Image by kenne
Watch him long enough
and you begin to feel embarrassed—
all our tools, our gloves, our careful distance,
while he leans in bare-faced
to the red fruit of the Prickly Pear Cactus,
accepting risk like the weather.
A better citizen of this place
than most of us passing through.
Share this:
Corvette Faffle Leave a comment
Corvette Raffle at Sunset — Image by kenne
The sun lowers behind Tucson,
softening the edges of everything—
even hope.
Tickets crinkle in warm hands,
paper prayers folded small.
The Tucson Greek Festival hums—
music, language, memory—
while the car gleams,
a quiet altar
to chance.
Share this:
Bolivian Grandma with Grandchild 6 comments
Bolivian Grandma with Grandchild — Image by kenne
Your bowler hat sits
like a quiet defiance—
not loud, not pleading,
simply present.
The child leans into you,
a question not yet spoken:
Will I have to fight as you did?
You tighten the shawl—
your answer
is warmth.
— kenne
Share this:
Rose Lake Leave a comment
Rose Lake in the Catalina Mountains — Image by kenne
No fish yet.
Just ripples
counting time.
He listens—
water against water,
nothing wasted.
Line in,
mind out,
both drifting.
— kenne
