A breeze touches me;
Birds sing and the sun is soft.
A power line hums.

It's a soft morning;
Shadows lie across the road.
A tree sways gently.

White puffs from the sky:
Seed pods fall swiftly downward
To the hard gray road.

Crumpled near the road
Rusty sign covered by green:
"This land is for sale".

Washer in the woods
Survived another winter.
Doesn't look so old.

In the sky one cloud.
It peeks through the tree branches.
A distant plane hums.

Gay puffs of yellow
Soak the sun and light the fields.
They bow in the breeze.

Long, slow line of cars:
A funeral procession.
In one, a friend waves.

Blue blooms in the shade
Add mystery to the woods;
Bird melts into them.

Delicate petals,
Small white flowers grace the road.
Loud sound in the woods!

The leaves are still now;
Sun's rays glow softly through them.
Now they are dancing.

The wind is hollow;
It whispers through the forest
And trembles the leaves.

Lilacs are shaking;
They share their sweet purple smell
With no thought of thanks.

The old brown dog sniffs;
He sees me and runs away,
But comes back to sniff.

The old dog trots by,
Glances at me and goes on.
Two May travelers.

A fence in the woods;
Wire mesh weaves through the forest.
The jailed trees peek out.

White puffs stream past me:
Dandelion seeds en route.
Hurry up and plant!

Sun filters and glows
Through trees, bushes, leaves and grass.
Million shades of green.

The road is so still;
Daffodils nod lazily;
A bee buzzes past.

Dark clouds, bright shadows;
A second between two worlds.
Then, no more shadows.

Now the world is dark,
Puffy clouds blot out the sun.
Peepers sing with joy.

On the mountain top
The sun paints the trees with light.
The road is still dim.

It's a yellow time:
Forsythia, dandelions,
And the sun's paintbrush.

Hypnotized robin
Sits at the side of the road,
Sees me, waits and flies.