Glints of Morning Light

 

Glints of morning light
Slide off of the small pumpkin
On kitchen table.

 Forsythia bush
Now completely bare of blooms;
So still in the sun.

 

Port of the barn--
Olivia stands and eats
Merging with the brown.

 Open white tubs stare
From back of the Mercedes,
Mouths empty, hungry.

The woods are singing:
High pitched ultra sonic scream--
Can no one hear it?

Once it held a tree--
Strong base of a growing trunk;
Now the moss holds it.

Even the steel fence
Has something that lies beyond:
A view, a window.

Coming from behind,
Pushing the wind before it---
Then the car is past.