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Wednesday, March 21, 2018

Not Doing Its Job

Fat bird on feeder
Pulls down the squirrel repeller;
Can't figure that out.

Pine cones on the lawn
Replace the whiteness with brown;
Now the sky threatens.

Markers on the trees
Signify something special;
(Don't know what it is.)

Cold and threatening--
Gray the clouds filling the sky;
Maybe snow will come.

Mirror on the rock
That sits on the rushing stream:
Stillness on motion.

Snow covered tarp sits
Beneath the wood it protects.
(Not doing its job).

Bell, X, number, shield:
Rune symbols by the road
Signifying what?

Two old stump buddies
Fall into decrepitude,
Sink into the ground.

Monday, March 19, 2018

A Fence of Shadows

Sun burst in windows,
All the trees are standing still.
(A whisper of Spring?)

Through dirty windows
Bird forms float in the light.
They are still hungry.

Generator's still;
A quiet piece of metal
Waiting for a storm.

Black silhouettes soar,
Swooping through the sky with ease.

(Where are they going?)

Woodpecker beating
Unseen and persistently
On his wooden drum.

Snow pile and branches
Lie together like old friends,

Engage each other.

Between hose and statue
Myriad snow drops appear
In their ghost-white garb.

A fence of shadows
Spanning neatly in the woods

Keeping out the sun.

Shadows are Shrieking

Walk of March 17,2018

Shadows are shrieking
And weaving from the white lawn;
Birds race back and forth.

Wind blows bird's tail
As she sits on the feeder:

No cloud in the sky;
Geese float gently on the pond;
Cold wind up the road.

Hens peck in the field;
Distant unseen crow calls;
Then, the silent world.

Dead twig on the ice
Quivers in the brisk cold breeze--
Illusion of life.

Bending down the hill,
Shadows mold to its contours,
Always obliging.

Slender pine sapling
Growing in the icy snow
Has found its milieu.

Dribbling from its mouth
Rock monster grins in the sun
A grimace of joy.

Friday, March 16, 2018

Just the Dream of Spring

Mid March light brightness
As clouds clear for a second--
Shadows reappear.

Fat bird is waiting--
Just needs to turn round for seeds;
There are always more.

Olivia licks;
Collette gets her morning bath.
All's well in cow world.

Windows through walls;
Barn opens to the outside
Through its inside walls.

Resting from their load
Trash cans lie in the driveway.
(Too tired to stand up?)

Under the gray clouds
Slender birch tree stands and shakes:
Beacon of white light.

First in a whisper
Wood's winds call to each other
In an unknown tongue.

Roadside pond is bare:
There is no water and no ice,
Just the dream of Spring.

Tuesday, February 27, 2018

Leaving the World Fresh

Clean bright morning light;
Sunshine sweeps away the clouds
Leaving the world fresh.

Morning shadows fall
Silent, sharp, in their darkness;
Everything's peachy.

Even the stop sign
Sends its shadow image long
On this sunny day.

As the ice recedes
Leaves lie in the water tomb
Still, brown and peaceful.

Two uprooted trees
Touch their roots at the stream's edge;

Is winter gone now?
Woods are filled with sharp shadows;
Mini ponds have sprung.

At the road side pond
Branches on water on leaves;
Many dimensions.

Falling on the road
Sumac shadows reach flatly--
A roadside etching.