Stream Provides the Bass

March 21

The first day of Spring;
Clouds fill the overcast sky.
There are no shadows.






Some filthy snow piles--
All that remains of winter;
Birds are all around.












Woman and her dog
Walk slowly along the road.
Tiny dog pulls her.












Hira walks with me;
There is nothing quite like it:
A journey with love.












March 22

There are no shadows;
Only an endless gray sky
Broken by car sounds.











Fat cat in barn door
Surveying the morning scene
Sits and slinks away.

A chorus of birds
Sings syncopated and loud.
Stream provides the bass.

Pebble in my shoe
Growing into a boulder
Occupies my mind.

It's time of the moss;
Green and brown replace the white;
Distant chain saw roars.









A filthy patch of snow
Lies next to the garbage can;
Both wait to be emptied.

An ancient stone wall
Stretches down in the valley,
Unfazed by seasons.















High in a bucket
A man saws off high tree limbs.
Chain saw roars, truck chugs.