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Monday, March 31, 2014

Conquered by Softness


The rainfall has stopped;
But it still waits in the sky
To pour down again.

Trees tremble and shake
As the invisible force
Sweeps forward the sun.

Silhouetted trees--
Still shadows in the dark air;
Birds perch high up.

Mirrored reflection,
Rippled softly by the wind
In the mud puddle.

Stream's now a river,
Flowing into a new lake.
Sky grows darker.

A small waterfall
Pours through the forest rocks
Which cannot restrain it.

The hard steel road sign
Toppled in the moistened earth--
Conquered by softness.

The bark is peeling
From the venerable stump.
Layer by layer.

Sunday, March 30, 2014

A Liquid Thunder

 My stream is rushing,
Water falls next to my house--
A liquid thunder.


 Moisture all around'--
In the dull gray cloud cover;
In the rushing stream.


 Dwindling snow bank
Shrinks swiftly on my front porch.
Mist drops on my face.


 Hanging from slim twigs
Rain drops distill morning light--
Transparent vision.


By side of the road
A small lake has developed
With thrown beer bottle.


 Fields are brown again;
Just scattered patches of white
Serve as memory.

Roaring water sounds
From deep within the forest.
Rooster crows and crows.

On the melted pond,
A small patch of white appears:
Reflection of snow.


Saturday, March 29, 2014

Moisture's in the Air


Bright sunshine falling
On expanding light brown earth,
As the snow retreats.

It's not like a lamb--
Lion roars whisper in woods.
Everything is still.

Forsythia buds
Ever so slowly and small.
Lone goose in the sky.

Alfred's at the fence;
(Hasn't been there all winter)
Scratching his big head.

Woods are dappled brown;
Morning dove calls far away;
Moisture's in the air.


Moisture's in the air
As snow sinks into the ground.
New darkness in woods.

Stump congregation
 Survived another winter;
And so have we all!


Fully naked now,
Beyond his bars and shadows,
Ghost munches his hay.


Thursday, March 27, 2014

Children are Long Gone

Brilliant yellow light
Streams through my kitchen window--

Squirrel skitters on branch,
Always racing back and forth--
A Squirrel-Go-Round.

Warm smell of cow shit
Welcomes me this cool morning
As Alfred watches.

Sliding on shadows,
Pickup drives on dappled road.
The shadow remains.

Children are long gone,
Grown up or just moved away;
Still the sign remains.

Through two large windows
A tree in the back yard is seen
In the empty house.


 The sumac is gray;
 Winter, cars and growing old
Have contributed.

Striped with dark shadows
Twisting road is a flat snake
Squirming to slide free.

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Roaring in the Woods

 Wind is up today;
Suddenly chimes clang alarm;
Then it all dies down.

Tree limbs sway gently--
There's an invisible force
That keeps on building.


Roaring in the woods;
Small birds hop from branch to branch;
Dark clouds fill the sky.


 Ripples in the stream;
Leaves scurry across the road,
Servants to the wind.

Clicking of branches--
Sharp castanets in the woods.
A cold biting wind.

The blank wooden sign--
Winter has erased its words
So that it stands mute.

Windows through windows--
Portals to another world
Barely out of reach.

The old rocking chair
Sits next to the wood dresser,
Outside and useless.