Snow Clouds and Tree Creatures

Snow is in the air;
The sun is nowhere in sight;
Lights glow in dark barn.







Pine cones dot the banks
Like mysterious long turds
Left by a weird dog.

A car races by;
Robins sweep across the field
Like receding waves.












Car and truck headlights
Bring Halloween glow in March;
Two fenced in dogs bark.

Racing round the bend
School bus followed by two cars;
Were they ever here?

Voices from the clouds--
A flock of geese pass over,
Move from left to right.

Winding wooden snake
Curls its way up the tree trunk.
Does it feed at night?












Wrapped in lover's hug
Tree trunks entwine each other
(Till death do them part.)

Moss, Ice and Shadows

Rooster is crowing;
Wheelbarrow upside down;
Thin ice on the pond.

White house through the trees
Looks out on the empty field--
No robins pecking.








Icicles return
To hang over rushing stream;
The seasons see saw.

The moss covered lawn
Softens the cold sharp shadows.
An icy wind blows.








Near standing dead tree
A log melts into the earth,
Slowly and gently.

Woodpecker hammers;
Today it's frozen insects.
He keeps on drilling.

Snow is retreating
But the freeze of winter stays.
Sun sparkles on stream.










On the old gray rock
A green forest grows wildly--
Miracle of moss.









The two baby goats
Cavort outside the warm barn.
Nannys watch closely.

A soft gray morning;
Two men chatting hear the barn;
Sun tries to peek out.

Smoke behind the barn;
Doors open, machines humming--
Preparing for spring.









Daffodils budding;
Crocuses peek their heads out--
Hastened by humans.

The first shelf fungus
Appears on tree like magic
As if from nowhere.










Small yellow buds
On the tips of the branches;
The moss seems greener.

The dead leaves tremble;
Now they seem ready to fall--
Waiting all winter.

The old king tree stump
Crowned by moss instead of snow
Attended by fir trees.









Last year's shelf fungi
Lies at the base of the tree;
Make way for the new.

New green leaves spring out
Balanced on slender branches--
The first pioneers.

New green leaves spring out
Balanced on slender branches--
The first pioneers.

Snow is almost gone;
Man kneels in the empty field;
Garlic is coming.

A sprinkling of snow;
Behind the woods, geese calling;
Moist sweet smell of hay.









The two retrievers
Sit patiently in the car;
The fun is outside.

A distant woodpecker
Thrums its sharp staccato beat.
On the ground, robins.

A heavy dark sky,
Then the sun rolls up the road
Bringing soft shadows.

Sun and clouds see saw;
First come bright dancing shadows,
Then, a steel gray road.









Ring of ancient rocks
Surrounds the rusting tin can--
History pieces.

A cluster of birds
Fly clucking over the road
As the sun comes out.

Bree bree twit twit twit
Twah twah twah twah twah twah (caw)
Chirpa chirpa chirp.

Air is moist and clean;
Newborn goat wriggles and blinks--
Season of rebirth.

Shadows Guide the Way

Shadows guide the way,
Splashed, speckled on the road.
Incessant dog barks.












Snow is almost gone;
Brown takes over the white field;
Hopeful robin pecks.









Forsythia buds
Perceptible in the sun,
Waiting for their chance.

A tall dark shadow
Stands motionless on the road.
Is that really me?












Whooshing from behind
Car disappears round the bend
Leaving solitude.

Two grizzled brothers
Doze in the late morning sun.
It's a doggie's world.

Solid moss covered
Concrete square stands in the field;
Once a foundation.









Nestled by the fir
The plastic bag stands upright
Waiting to be filled.

Still as a statue
Robin comes to life pecking,
Then freezes again.

Shadow of a sign
Lies flat upon the tree trunk--
Miracle of light.

Illuminated
One log in the icy woods
Whispers of the spring.










Solitary snow
Guards the front of the driveway--
Refuses to melt.

Crackled ice feathers
Lie in the frozen puddle;
Not left by a bird.

Snow dusts icy field;
Curtain flaps in the barn door;
Bird speeds to safety.

Feathers in the road
Flutter in the icy wind
But they do not fly.

Leaves slide on the road;
Loud roaring comes from the woods.
Today the wind rules.

Tiny flakes of snow
Float by in the iced sunlight
Give a mixed message.

Bursting from the woods
The wind swirls up clouds of snow.
Tall trees creak and bend.









Hidden in the woods:
Rusted brown metal whozit,
Latticed, forgotten.

Underneath the rock
Three small icicles dangle
Untouched by the wind.












Old deserted house--
Blank windows stare at the road;
Inside--more blankness.

Shining on the road
Frozen tire tracks glisten
Drawn on by the sun.

Dead Branches All Around

The first day of spring;
Strong winds blow the layered clouds;
Pines bow and tremble.

Snow field is melting
Leaving small uncertain pools
Rippled by the wind.

By the roaring stream,
Small pool is trapped by tree roots
And whirls round and round.

Bared by the melting snow
Forlorn basketball appears;
It has lost its bounce.









Branches on the ground
Crashing from the tops of trees;
Wind does spring cleaning.








Dead limbs hang and lie
On the rocks and in the woods.
Make way for the spring!









Still the dead leaves cling
Through winter and now March winds;
Are they immortal?












Soft insistent snow
Has pushed back the iron fence--
Nature's persistence.

Robin in the field
Hopping and pecking for worms
Knows not it's cliché.

Shades of old barn red
Light up in the cold March sun;
Shadows on the roof.








Frozen in its place
Melting snow stops its retreat.
Ice returns today.

Bright cold morning sun
Grows shadows on the road;
Bird chirps nervously.

Two cackling crows
Exchange hoarse jokes in the air.
(No one is laughing.)












She's gliding past me,
My silent fellow traveler,
Walking through shadows.

In town, crocus sprouts;
On the mountain, icicles.
Dogs lie in the sun.

Hanging from the moss
Icicles glisten in sun.
And then it's "good-bye."









Scratching behind me
Dead leaf skitters to a halt.
Echo of the fall.

Liquid Mirrors Lie

Road is shiny moist;
Layers of gray clouds above;
Electric wires hum.












On the maple tree
Plastic bottles hang for sap;
Play rope hangs nearby.

Coming round the bend--
Pick up truck with tires whooshing;
Dim lights in the mist.







Clear drops on branches
Hanging precariously;
Small dog wants to play.










Liquid mirrors lie
Reflecting the trees above them;
Road water glistens.













Hill's receding snow
Reveals bottles, cans, cartons:
Man's embellishments.

Honking from the pond
Loud goose signals to others:
"Found a landing place."












Banged, bent, and beaten
Garbage can sits on the driveway;
Did it deserve this?












Sign says it clearly:
"Rassing Rictly Forbidden";
Nature's editor.

Gray the morning road;
Gray, gray the thick cloud hanging;
Warm barn manure smell.

Bottom of the road
Lone blue wrapped newspaper lies.
Above, geese honking.







White turns into brown;
Snow blanket is retreating.
Where is it going?

Head bowed over snow
Stone saint watches winter.
Does it pray for spring?

Neatly on snow bank
Two large round turds have been placed
By a tidy dog.












Surviving winter
Two shelf fungi are now black--
Ghosts of autumn past.

Hidden in the woods
Staccato gun shots ring out--
Hollow sound of fear.











At the edge of snow
Rusty gizmo is revealed
Still doing nothing.

Near the gray snow bank
Crushed plastic bottle lies:
Winter's end debris.

Small birds chirp lightly;
Others swoop to melting snow;
Plane hums overhead.

Wind blows up the road
Carrying the cries of geese.
It seems much too soon.

Snow is receding
Exposing layers of brown;
Spring is still waiting.








The woods uncover,
Exposing soggy dead leaves
And hopeful green moss

Leaning green lawn chair
Resting back against a tree,
There all winter long.

Large brand new mailbox
Sits strangely among old ones;
New kid on the block.








Old stump friends are back
Still discussing the beer can
Thrust into their midst.

By the shade of trees
Ice clings by the running stream,
Its season's ending.

White spot in the air
Joined by others floating by;
There still will be snow.

Gray Ghosts on a Misty Morning

Soft misty morning;
Gray ghosts take over the trees.
Owl hoots far away.

Ahead there's blankness;
Mist absorbs all sight and sound.
Then the rushing stream.

I strain for a sound;
Fog envelopes everything.
My ears are ringing.

The woods are soggy;
Water comes from all around,
Flowing and seeping.












The familiar bend,
Mysterious in the fog.
Unseen dog barks.

Is it mist or rain?
Soft moisture touches my face.
Clouds are descending.












Racing by the road,
Small waterfalls tumble down
Rushing to spring time.

With its fog lights on
Pick up truck swishes past me
Its tires slap wetly.

Inside, the goats bleat;
Outside, warm pungent hay smell;
I head for my door.

Humming transformer
Breaks through the morning stillness;
In the blue sky--a plane.

Like fuzzy statue
Schnauzer sits still on the snow;
Must have a cold butt.








On the frozen road
Spider webs of ice spin out,
Ornate--treacherous.












Nobody's here now;
Door swung open blocked by snow;
Next door the dogs bark.







Patches of dark ice
Spread out along the roadside
Almost blending in.

The snow bank's ridges
Are cast darkly on the road--
A joke of the sun.

After the deluge
Water drips through exposed roots;
Stream bubbles again.

From beneath the snow
Water rushes next to road--
Solid to liquid.

Racing down the rocks
Water falls relentlessly
Surrounded by snow.

White line in the sky
Cutting across the blue heaven
Fading instantly.

Digging and chirping
Little people shovel snow--
It's all just a game.

Sun plays hide and seek;
Wood smoke drifts over the roof;
Lone dove coos on wire.

Mirrors in the stream
Reflect the icy gray sky
And shimmer slowly.

Green and flourishing:
Ivy on the snow capped trunk
Defying winter.








Overwhelmed by snow
Back of the mailbox peeks out--
No delivery.

Winding through the rock
The slim tree trunk emerges
To reach for the sky.












Now covered with snow
Abandoned nest high in the tree.
Two crows caw in woods.

In the road ahead
Deer runs to the other side
In blink of an eye.












Bowed down by the snow
Fir tree almost touches ground--
Homage to winter.

Birds are singing now;
Sun is out, snow fall has stopped.
A car slushes past.






Sleek mound in the snow
Curves and bends like a sculpture;
A car is beneath.

Falling white snow clumps
Detach themselves from the trees,
Land with a whisper.









The driveways are closed;
Dried lilacs are capped with snow;
Only cars make noise.

Descending snow clumps
Burst silently on the road;
Then whirling white wisps.









Gnarled one eyed tree stump
Stares dolefully through the snow
At endless whiteness.

Snow fills old washer
But it is already clean;
Just has to sit there.

Now the sun is warm;
Large snow clumps fall with a crash.
The icicles drip.