Beyond a flurry
A sheet of white flakes falling
Snow fall in April.
Mourning dove sitting
On top of empty feeder
Waits, in vain, for seeds.
Plummeting downward
Plume of whiteness lands softly
Behind the mountain.
Yesterday's snow fall
Lies like an old cold blanket
On the barren field.
Blowing up the road
Bitter cold, no aroma--
Still a winter wind.
Missing wood fence slat
Allows for a better view
Of the lawn beyond.
Climbing the mountain
Shadows follow its contour
(As long as there's sun).
Bird sitting on branch
Provides a new dimension:
A dot among lines.
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