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Monday, November 21, 2016

First Snow of Winter

Walk of Sunday, November 20, 2016

Everything's frosted;
Suddenly the world is white--
First snow of winter.

Drops from my roof top
Foretell the end of the snow
Just as it began.

Huddled in her stall
Collette enjoys her breakfast;
Peeks out at the snow.

Old skeletal husks
Taking on a new function:
Snow receptacles.

Despite the snow fall
The stream continues to flow--
Some things never change.

Deep forest is whiter;
Brisk breeze murmurs in the trees--
Then all is silent.

Still cling to the trees:
Brown leaves that have lost their way
And found a new home.

Shaking like a leaf
Small bird sits on a high branch
Against the slate sky.

Saturday, November 19, 2016

Fleeing Paradise

Sitting in the chair,
I feel so comfortable.
Why can't I just sleep?

There will be magic--
On the road, in the bushes,
There's always magic.

Three swings and three chairs:
Three dimensionality;
A sunny morning.

Slow late November,
Feeling like Indian summer;
Suspiciously warm.

Out of the shadows
And into the bright sunlight
She walks joyously.

Silhouetted high
Gentle insistent tapping--
Woodpecker hunting.

Dashing squirrel on road
Barely missed by speeding car,
Lives another day.

This sweet sunny day
Cars come ripping down the road
Fleeing paradise.

Perched on a tree top
Crow calls out to near and far:
"Know that I am here!"

Friday, November 18, 2016

Between Two High Wires

Pressed against window
Plant is trying to come in.
(A fear of winter?)

The light is harsher;
Soft rays of summer have gone;
Starkness of winter.

In the middle of brown
Golden bush blooms on my lawn
Forgetting seasons.

Soft clucking of hens;
Deep rolling trolls of the goats;
Morning barnyard sounds.

Old, gray and sagging
Out building has lived too long.
Still, it stays standing.

Old barren stream bed
Carries dead leaves and sunlight
And dreams of water.

Between two high wires
Last night's moon, shining faintly
Sheds a blue gray light.

I take just one step
And move from the bright sunshine
Into peaceful shade.

Thursday, November 17, 2016

Goodbye Queen Anne's Lace

Beige bird in a bush
Tries to be invisible;
(And nearly succeeds)

Tail twitching gray squirrel
Sitting under the brown bush
Drawing attention.

The moss on my lawn
Is overtaking the grass--
Green revolution.

Skeletal husks wave
In the gentle morning breeze--
Goodbye Queen Anne's Lace.

From under dead leaves
Sprouts of fresh green grass spring up
To meet the morning.

Two broken branches
Slide slowly into the earth
Covered by green moss.

Framed by empty swings
Susan sweeps leaves from her lawn.
(Always morning chores).

A cry from the woods--
A cracking tree in the wind.
(Or was it a child?)

Wednesday, November 16, 2016

Shadow or a Branch?

Shadow or a branch?
Neither branch nor a shadow;
A trick of the eye.

Branches wave and nod
In the silent world outside;
Window blocks all sound.

The two bovine friends
Touch base with some cow snuggles
While chewing their cuds.

Yesterday's rainfall
Has left a mini swamp land
This sunny morning.

Luminescent leaves
And the swiftly flowing stream--
Morning sights and sounds.

Mushroom family sits
On the hospitable tree,
Nibbled by creatures.

Path into the woods
Dappled in the morning light,
Muted, beige and bright.

Barren stream bed flows
With dead leaves but not water--
Seasonal changes.