Play of Sun, Wind, Clouds

Thick white flakes scurry,
Scattered by the icy wind
To the frozen pond.

Three goats are eating,
Munching on old Christmas trees--
A post Yuletide treat



Sun breaks over snow
Cutting through the thick gray clouds--
Temporary sheen.

Old pick up struck stops;
Young man with beard leans out;
We both love the cold.













Wrapped around the branch
The dead brown leaf still holds on;
Waiting for Spring breeze?

Now flakes are floating,
But in the woods the wind growls;
Soon it will pounce here.

Unseen hoarse whispers--
Wind converses with itself
Deep in the forest.

Sun streaks on the road--
Instant patches of glisten
That you step into.

Forsythia bush
Now bare branches with ice drops;
But there are the buds.

Grayness then brightness;
Rush of light then bowing trees--
Play of sun, wind, clouds.