Like Gentle Thunder

Even though it's gray
My heart's forsythia bright
And billow cloud light.












Even the rain clouds
Can.'t wipe out the bright colors
And gentle pastels.


Rooster soft crowing
In the late afternoon haze,
Then the sun breaks through.

The plane sounds lazy
Echoing across the sky
Like gentle thunder.


Spring loves St. Francis;
All the flowers gather round,
Try to make him smile.












Pale green umbrellas
Hanging from slender branches
Waiting for the rain.










It's the edge of rain--
Soft, not sharp, warm, understanding
Preceded by breeze.









Where are the sumac?
They've gone away for two years
Leaving gaunt branches.