Brown Now Rules the Woods [04182014]

 Soon it will be May
And this gray chill will be gone;
Well, it's not freezing.

 

Dog at my window
Carefully checks the outside--
And then he checks me.

 Clicking in the bush,
Trembling ever so slightly--
Small curious bird.

 

 

Blank and overturned
The empty pail seems washed out
Without a shadow.

 

 Across the steel fence,
Two parts of a rotten log
Broken and hanging.

 

Not a patch of snow;
Where whiteness covered the ground
Brown now rules the woods.

 Upturned and tangled,
Twisted jumble of branches--
Winter disaster.

What stories it tells,
Moss and lichen covered rock
Upturned from its sea.