Playing Tag With the Rain Clouds

Sun is out again,
Playing tag with the rain clouds--
In and out it goes.

Field is speckled white;
Not snow on October first:
Asters, Queen Anne's Lace.

Now the clouds have won;
All shadows have disappeared.
Dog keeps on barking.

Behind the mail box
White puffs peek out on long stems,
To be delivered.

In the muted woods:
Dead tree, a skeleton;
Its limbs stretched nowhere.









My friend Samvid stops;
We chat briefly as always,
Just touching the heart.


A field of mushrooms
Grows at the base of the tree--
Poof, today; tomorrow?

Old white house is still;
There's nobody inside it;
It's barely breathing.