Season of Tree Stumps

Frost is on the grass;
Pale winter whitens outside;
Still, the cars hum by.

Coffee roaster whirrs;
Kitchen fills with the thick smell;
Morning aroma.

Mornings white and pale;
Frost on the windows of cars
Parked next to the barn.

Forsythia branch
Frosted in the morning chill;
Curled brown leaves are pale.

Solitary bloom
Still glowing on the bare branches;
The others have fled.

Pick up truck passes;
Driver gives "v" sign through roof.
(That's Woodstock for you.)

Season of tree stumps,
No longer concealed by trees
With green bushy leaves.

A blinding second:
Sun crashes through tree limbs;
Then clouds take over.