Moss is on the Rock

Is it Spring time yet
That spreads across snowless fields?
We're two days early.

The light is different
As it touches the barn wall.
Rooster keeps crowing.

A gentle bleating
Comes from a nearby shelter:
New kid on the block.










The snow is all gone;
Stout weeds have reclaimed the field;
Moss is on the rock.

Woodpecker's busy;
Bird chirps in morning light;
Sun sculptures the fence.








Magic lawn returns
Where it waited under snow
For its Spring release.










Monster in the woods
Has chewed up the old gnarled tree
Without eating it.










Spring is really here:
My family stops to say hi
On its way to breakfast.