Hanging Like Beige Bats

White blooms in my yard,
Brighter in the morning sun.
Each new day of Spring.









Hanging like beige bats,
Strange leaves in the morning sun
Are hugging themselves.












They poked up through snow
These thin spiky spunky weeds.
Now they rule the field.









Shadow behind fence
Mysteriously unmoving.
Is it imprisoned?

As the sun rises
So does the ache in my heart.
When will it leave me?

Shining on the stump,
More rotten than the dead tree:
Foil packet of food.

Somewhere kids shouting;
Then a school bus rounds the bend.
Windows are darkened.

Framed against the sky,
White blossoms hang above road,
Nodding in the breeze.