Author: Rae Spencer

From the “Lost” Section of the Lost and Founds

Rae Spencer2 Comments

From the “Lost” Section
Of the Lost and Founds

Missing for the past few years
But seen occasionally
Behind rising western thunderclouds
Or under a theater seat
Once hanging from the second chord
Of Clair d’Lune
Several times, reports will show
It was spotted in the empty spaces
Of Ursa Major
And it caused an accident
On a dirt lane in Kentucky
When it flew out of a yellow oak leaf

You’ll know it by touch
Like warm mud between your toes
And its smell of crayon

Confirmation will come
Days later
When you find yourself humming
Quick medleys of childhood song
And reciting nonsense rhyme

Offering a reward for its recovery:
That you shall keep it
If first you contact me
With news that it survives
That it wasn’t blown up
Or mortally wounded by gunfire
Or trapped forever by a politician
Hammered into a campaign speech

But isn’t it true
That all things lost
Must be found

What goes up
Must come down

As you are searching
Keep in mind
It will be in the last place you look
And where you least expect it

Published in The Journal of Liberal Arts and Education Winter 2010

Cicadas

Rae Spencer15 Comments

Summer seems within reach, so I can’t resist a selection from the summer archives.

Cicadas

Their last earthbound form clings
hollow gargoyle relic of claw and eye
split with surgical precision to release
the winged adult.

If I held one of these amber
husks to my ear, would a dusty
song of waning summer pulse
like the tide in a scrolled shell?

Changing Weather

Rae Spencer3 Comments

The ladybug doesn’t lie. It’s “unseasonably warm” today, but not for long. The approaching cold front’s humid gusts have filled the yard with hyacinth perfume, and an electric sense of unease.

On a normal day, I might see two or three seagulls soar over my yard. Today I see dozens. They seem to be fleeing inland.

An angry chorus of crows, as they drive away a hawk, echoes the air’s tingle and buzz.

The sky changes from moment to moment, from frame to frame. It’s unsettling. Perhaps I’ll join the dog as she paces and frets along the leading edge our first spring storm.

A Walk in the Park

Rae Spencer14 Comments

The day was remarkably warm, and I couldn’t resist a walk in the park. Neither could anyone else, it seemed, because the parking lot and trails bustled with walkers, joggers, and bicyclists. Needless to say, most of the park’s wild residents were in hiding. Even so, this downy woodpecker lingered near the road, and an egret paused at my camera’s most distant limit.

Near the end of my walk, I stumbled into a herd of mourning cloak butterflies.

And finally, just before I reached my car, I noticed a commotion across the road. A large, mixed flock of warblers, chickadees, and other small birds flitted through the underbrush, staying long enough for me to catch a single frame of bluebird.

After they moved on, I hesitated, as I always do when it’s time to leave. My reluctance was rewarded when a pileated woodpecker flashed by and lit just a few yards away. She and I spent a few curious moments sizing each other up, then she went ahead with her foraging as I fumbled with my camera.

And now I’m home again, relaxing in my office. The dog is asleep at my feet, her arthritic legs and gray muzzle twitching as she dreams mysterious dog dreams. The cats are sprawled in splashes of sun, whiskers ruffled by a cool breeze that promises I will have to close the windows soon.

Soon, but not just yet…

Sunshine

Rae Spencer3 Comments

The yard is fully awake, roused by brilliant sunshine. Every stem stirs, an audible creak and rustle, and the breeze feels like a contented yawn. I’m tempted to use the word “spring” again…

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