Maybe these were the baby sparrows hatched in the nest that’s still nestled under the porch roof. They hung around for a long time chatting.
I like to revisit my old places too— poems that come along then are a kind of chat, with an old self, or with time itself. I’m reading some poetry by Harryette Mullen, and writing some new poems, which will have to wait for revision until after the time for autumn walks has passed.
poet | artist 