Even My Rushed Thoughts

Stella raced outside--
Cheeky cat wanted air, sun.
What an annoyance.

Tattered cloth in tree--
Sun makes it look bright, lovely--
A piece of found art.

Eggs, Angora yarn--
A rich little farm market
Right in my back yard.












Shining through the twigs:
Celestial opalescence--
A descended sphere.











In just an instant
Everything is still, silent,
Even my rushed thoughts.

Shadows are longer;
Small white moth flutters quickly
Racing from the cold.

How sharp the rocks are
Contrasting in shades of black
Painted by the sun.



Late afternoon sun--
It would be, three months ago.
Now, it's just early.