Thank You, Mr. Goose

It's fifteen degrees;
The thermometer says so.
Now I will find out.








Crisp white patina
Covers the field and bushes;
Some slashes of sun.









Swept by rays of sun
Small pine tree glows in the light--
Christmas ornament.












Car is warming up;
Engine purring in the driveway--
Winter symphony.

Bright morning sunshine
Etches shadows in the trunk;
Frozen dark and light.












Way below freezing,
Yet goose feathers keep me warm.
Thank you, Mr. Goose.

Next to evergreen
The old ghost of summer past
Covered with brown leaves.












Does moss ever die?
Bursting in spring and summer;
Glowing in winter.