Two geese, rising from a pond beside a freeway

on an autumn morning


I matched my car to their speed

and clocked fifty-five miles an hour.


In a day, they could make it

to the Carolinas or Canadian Maritimes, easily.


As I stepped into my garden

a flash of bullet-straight velocity


nearly hit me – not a bumblebee

as I first thought, but slightly larger.


Later, we saw resting at the feeder

an iridescent green, more like scales than feathers


followed by a sharp flash of ruby-throat.

Reminding, smaller notes deserve attention.


Goldfinches, flitting

within sunflowers:

the differing yellows.

Poem copyright 2017 by Jnana Hodson.
For more, click here.


Parting Motions

The translucent snakeskin beside my desk

signifies one painful interval

now closed over behind me.


All that blistered

when my Sea of Reeds parted

on my sojourn to here.


Hints of wisdom and temptations

through midday blaze and disfigured nights

of my particular world in its molting.

Poem copyright 2017 by Jnana Hodson.
For more, click here.

Squeaking, with Bass Notes

The throaty laughter of a thousand birds

having summered in the Arctic

resounded in play beside golden beech foliage.


Their loud squeaking amid flight

was good-humored, joyful, especially

confident in spanning vast distance.


The boisterous har-har-har of a great kingly goose

walking to his seat on stilling water

bounced back from the hillsides.

Poem copyright 2017 by Jnana Hodson.
For more, click here.

In the Slick Slack Sea Motion

When curtains of sea-fog

part with calm certainty

over wave-motion furrows

Porpoise, Dolphin

Minke, Humpback

Finback or Right

When the water is cerulean

When the water is dove

When the water’s no color at all

Beluga, Orca,

Gray, Pilot

or gigantean Blue

Rove so far, so fathomless

they mystify

even naval science

 Baird’s Beaked, Hubb’s Beaked

Goose-beaked, Sei

Little Pike and Sperm

All arise from the depths

to the light, so briefly

in the rhythm of air

Poem copyright 2017 by Jnana Hodson.
For more, click here.

From a Mysterious Heart

Admire my tail:

squirrel, peacock, alligator, or skink.


My traveling stronghold:

armadillo, porcupine, turtle, or snail.


My nose, if you will:

anteater or elephant.


My coat or my feathers,

my scales or my claws

safekeeping some center.


All the color of mating songs and dances

in their ritual orbs and ranging.


From an opening

a flickering tongue

chirping and bleating

a cloud of cold breath

a scat

an egg or egg sack

or a baby appears.


Into a hole,

the hole in the water,

the hole in the sky,

in the ground,

in each other.


All going,


go grinning.

Poem copyright 2017 by Jnana Hodson.
For more, click here.

Particular Balance

To community,

at last, I extend my regard:


a swarm of bees,

a school of fish,

a flock of cormorants,

a herd of deer,

a pod of whales,

a nest of ants,

a pride of lions.


The rabbit, licking my brow.


All of this world, I’ve roved

and come home

in a new place.


Still, it’s the loners I nod toward:







A walrus or seal

lolling in the surf.


It’s an honor to remember

when to keep a respectful

and safe distance.


And when to draw near.

Poem copyright 2017 by Jnana Hodson.
For more, click here.

Basic Drama

– for Steve Abbott

Two wingspans, as though cleaved

on a strip of exposed bedrock:

russet bands, a kestrel, perhaps.


No flesh, no bone, a few tufts nearby.


A clean attack, turned awry?

Prey turned into prey?

A weasel emerges as a prime suspect.


All the same, everyone’s

gotta eat, sometime.

Mount Agamenticus, Maine

Poem copyright 2017 by Jnana Hodson.
For more, click here.

Pawtuckaway Solstice

– for Jesse Metzler

Woodchuck bristled

hopping to safety

beneath a bright-

red pickup

at the trailhead

while woodpecker

beat time for the wind.


A great blue heron at shoreline

surveyed granite boulders.


Toads, tortoise,

garter snake,

and a beaver lodge

gleamed within evergreen

and beech detritus.


In the pause of mutual regard.



Flowing and howling. A cackle. A bray.


Crawling, oh belly to the earth or branch,

the slow-paced reply to hunger.


Fiddling, the friction of smoldering night

that summons sunrise.

The movement of limbs,

even snaking around a tree or

snail, scrolling back into its kernel.


Or flirting. The dance in its many degrees of shading.


Running – a trot, a stride, a gallop, a lope.

Verily, a mouse scurries

– the race of prey –


Mole, worm, cockroach, cave bat, crocodile,

a beetle from some underworld

and back.


Winging, clear veining or bright feathers

– even mottled dun –

darting, skimming,

fluttering – sometimes flustered,

sometimes fully free.


Hardly a weather vane.

Ram, cock, eagle, cod –




Who will be first?

With or without a jockey.



Bounding / Rolling / Worming / Snaking / Floating



All in this kingdom of motion.

Poem copyright 2017 by Jnana Hodson.
For more, click here.