Sun on the field leaves;
All that's left are rooster's cries
Over the dim snow.
Yesterday's puddle
A car track, now filled with ice.
Crows call in the gray sky.
Sudden break of sun;
The stream bursts into sparkles
And seems to giggle.
A neighbor stops me
Asking help for his ill wife.
Is there a question?
The sunshine has left;
Snow whitened woods turn dark.
My nose is freezing.
Tiny wooden bench
Sits five inches off the ground--
For legless midgets.
A crow keeps calling,
Unseen, high on a tree limb.
What is he saying?
The sky grows darker;
Gray, cold envelopes the road.
Is it going to snow?
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