Whimsy of the Sun

Near the high phone wire
The lilac buds are blooming.
Will there be a zap?

Tub near the barn door;
Rope swing hanging from the tree;
Both speaking "empty."












Why does the rooster
Continue his joyful crow
On this warm Spring morn?












Everywhere new blooms;
Flowers of all colors pop--
Yellow, red and white.












Dark weed silhouette;
Sharp shadows on the tree trunk;
Whimsy of the sun.











Growing in the shade,
Light blue flowers sip the sun
In measured doses.








Closer to the sun
Pink blossoms bloom earlier,
Soaking in the rays.

Sun infuses leaves;
Turns them into small beacons
In the morning light.









Susan shears the goat
As it lies there peacefully;
Its own choiceless choice.