Like a Messenger

The wood owl sculpture
Stands up against the tree trunk,
Watching with blind eyes.











Sun enters the barn
Moving among the shadows
Like a messenger.

Dead stumps communing
As they slowly rot away;
Closer to the earth.

Slender brown sapling
Bears desiccated blossoms
From the past summer.












It's warmer today;
You might think it's a heat wave:
Ten below freezing.












A strange path of snow
Winds its way into the woods.
Who will follow it?

Taking a short rest,
Twig hangs over the railing;
Until the next breeze.









Shadows shape the snow
That buries the old dead log
Making it softer.