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Wednesday, November 28, 2018

Only the Wind Moves











Just a few white dots
Sail softly through the gray air.
(Will there be millions?)
















Old bird feeder rests
Against the forsythia.
Does it wait for Spring?
























Snorfling her food
Olivia stands in the door
Calm and unperturbed.















Flecked with fallen leaves;
Framed with mosaic patterns--
Winter ice puddle.

























Ice wind up the road;
The dead leaves are all frozen;
Only the wind moves.
















My friend stops to chat;
He sits in the car, I stand;
I feel much warmer.
















The fallen speed sign
Lies uncommunicative,
Its message now mocked.



















Fallen garbage can
Held in a permanent thrall
By its cold steel chains.




















 

Tuesday, November 27, 2018

Universal Melt















Has Spring returned here?
Winter has not even come.
What is going on?













Sunlight on feeder;
Birds keep on gorging themselves;
(Act like it's winter.)





























They eat anything,
Even my rhododendrons
Which have only buds.
















Sweater and Spring coat
Is all I need on this day.
(What season is this?)
















Stream's now torrential,
Roaring its water onward
With a sense of purpose.














Instant waterfall
Runs swift down the mountainside
Adding its chorus.















Water is everywhere:
In sky, ice and running streams--
Universal melt.












Frantic moth searches
In the trees and the bushes.
(Has it lost its way?)

























































Monday, November 26, 2018

Shaken From The Sky




























November 15, 2018

It's all white again
And the sun shines on the snow;
Yes, I will shovel.












A few flakes still fall;
It's so comfy warm inside;
But I will go out.











November 17, 2018






The new feeder's out
And the happy squirrels still try;
(And fall on their ass.)











World is white and green;
Sky perpetually gray.
Wind chime is ringing.











Day after the snow
Whiteness changes into gray--
Winter is now here.













Susan's wheelbarrow
Always filled with sustenance
Or wood for the fire.












Over the swift stream
Bright red winter berries hang
Shedding their own light.













St. Francis watches
Unperturbed by ice or snow;
Always in prayer mode.














Amid the dead leaves
Green leaves are still flourishing.
(Their time will come soon.)















Leaves spread on the snow--
A vast sprinkle of old brown
Shaken from the sky.








It's Thanksgiving Time















It's Thanksgiving time
And Owen gets his mouthful
As Ingrid watches.





















 End of November;
Gray skies have become the rule;
Waiting for winter.






















Birds still flutter,
(As long as there is bird seed);
I will watch them eat.















Collette has new boots
With compliments of the mud.
(Early Spring fashion).














Slowly smoke rises
Lazily from the chimney
Ascending skyward.














Dirty gray and white
The snowfield is past its prime
Melting in the cold.












Drops of rain falling,
Tick, tick ticking on my coat.
(It's time to turn back).














Blue and protected
Lying shiny in driveway:
It's yesterday's news.