Even Grass Must Bow

It's below freezing now;
Cow takes refuge behind hay;
Flurries in the sun.








The sun is brilliant;
Cold wind blows through the field;
Even grass must bow.

Late afternoon light--
Small pine tree picks up the sun
Its needles glowing.

Bright patches of light
Illuminate the forest
With a sheen of beige.

Walking hand in hand--
Couple bundled for the cold,
But they share their warmth.

A cross of Lorraine--
Fleeting shadows on a tree;
(Or is it Chinese?)








Light before twilight;
There is no warmth in the sun;
The shadows seem cold.

Now just the tree top
Picks up the setting sunlight.
Darkness creeps upward.








Like little beige stones
Mushrooms huddle together
In cold sun and wind.