The road is silent;
All sounds from high above:
Crows caw and birds chirp.

A black silhouette,
Robin sits still on a branch
Chirping endlessly.










Clear, luminescent,
Plastic ball hangs from a branch
Reflecting the sun.

Framed against the sky
A strange spherical nests sits;
What creatures built it?

On the branches' tips
The first yellow buds appear--
Come forsythia!









Gathered in the woods
A neat display of refuse:
Funky tea party.









Sitting on the road
Discarded McDonald's bag
Fell short of the woods.

Sparkling in the sun
Two small drops of morning dew
Hang from the thin branch.

Last fall they were full,
Lush and white round tree fungi.
They've become themselves.

Now my hands are bare;
Sun glistens on the moist road;
Goose honks through the trees.

Swooping down the hill
Bicyclist races towards me:
Clash of energies.

Munching, tail upward
Cow poops while eating breakfast--
Efficient bovine.