Still Looks Like Winter

Late morning sunshine;

Shadows falling on the snow.

Still looks like winter.

Sixty degrees out

(So the thermometer says).

But there still is snow.

Closer to the fence

Collette lifts her voice in Spring joy;

(Or to clear her throat).

Slowly circling

The hawk seems so nonchalant;

Not so the field mice.

Below the surface

Branches float in monochrome

Perpetually brown.

They're disappearing

This couple rounding the bend;

Now they're truly gone.

High in tall dead tree,

Distinguished just by its sound:

Woodpecker hammers.

Snaking from a rock:

Solitary sumac grows,

Reaching for the sun.

A Blank Wall of Gray

Walk of March 25, 2017

A blank wall of gray

Between me and the mountains--

Soft power of mist.

Smoke from my roaster

Lifts and meets the mist outside--

Welcome each other.

Sailing through the air

A dark frigate held aloft:

Bird against the fog.

Still dark, stark and bare

Trees stand against the bareness--

Winter silhouettes.

Ravaged by winter

Steel fence brought down by soft snow;

Persistence furthers.

White has become gray--

Pristine snow banks caked with grime--

Winter transitions.

Embedded in white

Orange, pink and half eaten:

Apple core in snow.

The blacker the stump

The brighter the light that shines

Through its tiny eyes.

Ticking Falls Down

 Grayish blue today;

Sunlight hides behind the clouds.

Everything is still.

It's not like a lamb,

This shifting end of the month.

It's more like a ghost.

Through the dark barn door

Light shines from the other end,

Only seen in dark.

Ticking falls down;

Not the silence of snow flakes--

Soft tapping of sleet.

Cutting through the sky

Faint calling to each other

Wild geese return.

It's getting darker;

Forest is singing louder;

Anticipation.

Snow covered wood pile

Next to abandoned stable;

Waiting for some use.

Tiny ice pellets

Falling freely from the sky:

"Tic tic tic tic tic."

A True Bovine Kiss!

 The air is blue gray,

Yet there is a hint of sun-

The Spring Equinox.

Smell of fresh coffee

On my finger tips today--

Smoking memories.

Holes in the snow bank

Illustrate the march of Spring.

Melting has begun.

Perched on a branch

Crow caws into empty air.

(There is no response).

Collette and her friend

Make their morning affections--

A true bovine kiss!

Sinking into snow

Pine cones lie beneath the tree

Looking bedraggled.

Shadows seem softer

As clouds filter the sunlight

In the quiet woods.

Trapped in the brambles

Large ball of snow imprisoned.

Strong sun will free it.

Whisper of an arch

As a tree limb bends over

To touch another.

Transient Nature Shows

Slow, a car slips past--

Whooshing, and then it's not there;

Transient nature shows.

Last day of winter,

But snow doesn't seem to know,

Lying on the ground.

Peeling from the trees

Snow makes ready to collapse

In face of the sun.

Spring is really here:

Mabel's outside and barking.

(She's forgotten why).

Slowly descending,

Long white line in the blue sky,

Without a murmur.

Both sides of the road

Hidden deep in the forest,

Mourning doves whimper.

Perched on a snow bank

Frozen and vividly brown:

A fresh pile of dog shit.

Dark brown and waiting,

Buds at the end of branches

Holding their treasures.