
Horse fields revert to native flora.
Flowers, grasses, shrubs, trees;
oak, maple, cottonwood, witch hazel,
willow, blackberry, and arrowwood.
Fauna sing, chatter, chirp;
feeders, watering stations,
and tidbits of the compost pile
draw them back – and apples.
Pileated woodpeckers, possums,
humming- and bluebirds,
chipmunk, squirrel, and whitetails,
who come near to graze at dusk
after sweet fallen nuggets.

Lovely poem.
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Thanks, Sadje :)
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Most welcome dear friend
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I like this one Lisa…nature is king…or queen…whichever you prefer.
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How about Nature Is. Glad you like it. I feel blessed to live amongst it.
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I love when that happens. Mother Nature know how too balance. (K)
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Yes, she does :)
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It’s a beautiful thing, Lisa!
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:)
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A joy to watch the critters that visit our yards. :)
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