Still Too Cold to be Slushy

Brown road and white snow
Still too cold to be slushy.
Chickens cluck in barn.








Solar reflector
Casts a shadow on the snow;
A strange shift of jobs.

Mirror in the woods;
Black stream flows through white snow;
Faint dark reflections.










Small tracks in the snow,
Crisscrossing this way and that--
Frozen past action.

The dented trash can,
Battered, slammed and thrown around,
Waits for more abuse.

Like a black beacon
Belle looks out from a snow bank.
Is that dog posing?











My mind moves ahead
Flying from road and snow crunch
To things I must do.

Flittering small fat birds
Hop from bush to road to snow,
Searching for food.