Cawing Crows, Gray Sky

Rhododendrons wait;
Their buds sit expectantly.
(It's almost freezing.)

Winter coat again.
Will I ever wear sandals?
Maybe next July.

Even in gray cold
New green blades spring from the ground;
The sun is hidden.


The gray naked goat
Shorn for the expectant Spring
Doesn't stop munching.

Cawing crows, gray sky;
A cold wind blows up the road;
My spirits waver.


Old rusty mail box
Leans on the telephone pole.
Did I hear it sigh?

In hollow tree stump
There are some empty acorns--
And no oaks nearby.


A bird and a plane
Compete for sounds in the sky.
Plane fades, then bird stops.