The sparrow and the elephants.

One sunny day a little sparrow
flew through the open window
behind the bookshelves.
that lined the entire wall,
corner to corner, floor to ceiling.
She had that where's it gone kind of feeling
Over the fire-place live three 
small wooden elephants
from India, graded in height.
But that sparrow had disappeared
right out of sight
She went to bed that night hoping
her feathered friend would be alright.
When the morning came, she entered the room
to look for her glasses and saw right through
the blur four little elephants resting
on the mantle-piece, all in perfect formation.
What a strange thing to see
Last night there were only three
through her sleep induced blurry.
Sparrow had found some midnight company.
He doesn't come near the house any more,
his nest is in the rafters of her patio
where he feeds the babies
chirps about his adventures
indoors hanging with a herd of Indians,
and a funny little lady with dentures.

bridges are built not to jump off but to walk across - thought of the day

Tries to hide in rock pools 

the tide brings him in

leaves him stranded naked

vulnerable, 

cruel beaks peck at him

cooked by the searing sun

this shell remains intact

still whole and i wonder

if he's still at home 

or has he found another

that fits now he has grown. 

by fiocle

The River

These familiar waters of my childhood

still flow strong and silent

holding memories

of alabaster canoes

rods with hooks

dips to cool the sweltering heat

of the summer sun.

The smell of fresh rainbow trout

the spectrum of colours shimmering

on their glossy scales as they

shudder into the other world.

The soft sound of the oars

the glubbing of a bubble rising.

We are pirates seeking new terrain.

We are captains of the ship

sailing to distant lands,

conquering new islands.

We are protectors of the otters

who watch us incognito

from their shady den.

These halcyon days remain

etched in my mind

with no beginning and no end

by fiocle

Weight - blogen

When I pick up my camera, I can tell whether the battery is in it just by how heavy it is.
I enjoy that I have this skill. It's subtle and means that my nervous system is doing good.
By nervous system I mean, the connection from my brain to my arm muscles, and my ability
to compute and discern. Yes, I like that.
Remembering where I put the battery is a whole other ball game. My eye muscles come into play
and there is a lot more searching involved. Much more strenuous than weighing something up.
I would be good as a bird of prey. But maybe I would make a decent baker, actually maybe that is why I like to bake. I don't need scales, I just lift up the bag of flour or sugar or whatever and 'guess'. But, in my case, it isn't guessing, I am naturally good at it. This leads me to where I need to be right now. Looking into the possibility of going back to work, you've guessed it, in a kitchen, baking or other some such weighty pass-time. Did I mention I also like chopping things fast. Vegetables more so than meat.
Now where did I put that battery?