In Their Disjunction

A bright cold morning;
The sun is taking its time;
Cat crosses the lawn.

With every second
The sunlight becomes brighter;
Stripes appear on lawn.

With roar and rattle
Peter's pick up truck wakes up
Winks one good rear light.

The broken fence posts--
Last winter's snow recorded
In their disjunction.

I talk to myself
But receive no new insights--
Persistent babble.

Among the dead leaves
Bright green in the morning sun:
Fern and glowing moss.

Closest to the sun
Treetops are painted by the light;
A brilliant starkness.


Pet Watch car passes--
My Stella's not in their care.
Just where has she gone?