The bright snow crunches;
Ribbon blows this way and that;
Two roosters crowing.

Wind across the field
Brings frantic spinning white flakes,
Hither, yon and gone!

Two women pass by:
"Good morning." "Yes it is that."
We exchange bright smiles.

A baby fir tree
Frosted with snow like Christmas
(Without ornaments).

Black dogs on white snow
Trot like cartoon characters
Sniffing out the world.

Black dog pads along
Her feet are covered with snow.
She likes her snow shoes.

Dancing specks of white
Briefly lit up by the sun
Wander to the ground.

Soft muffled rumbling:
Radio in car warming up.
What language is that?

Tree branches dance;
Blue sky belies the freezing;
Ice wind across field.

The white slivers meet,
Frozen streams conjoin.
A fat squirrel scurries.

Crazy white puppy
Somersaults in the window.
He wants to freeze, too.

Wind tumbles in woods
Waterfalls of icy air
Hollow and unseen.

Two leaves are racing,
Scurrying across the road.
They're fleeing the wind.

Coming back is soft:
Direct sun and wind in back.
Same road/different road.

The oil truck roars by
Leaving a smelly white haze--
Cheap advertising.

Amorphous soft cloud
Changes to a dinosaur
And swiftly dissolves.

Smell of burning wood;
Prickly trees reach for the sky;
Hens peck in the sun.

Smooth faced brown tree stump
Admits its age at its death--
Subtle monument.

Swing hangs in the sun
Football lies at the yard's end.
Where are the playmates?

Overturned tree trunk--
Vibrant moss covers its base.
Winter life goes on.

Beat up car zooms by,
Fills the air with gassy fumes
Which evaporate.

She shuffles past me
Cresting the long steep incline;
Each has our journey.

A lone mullein stalk
Shivers gently in the wind;
Guns boom in the woods.

The old rotten stump
Hugs the tall tree next to it.
Can it borrow life?

The cold wind warbles;
Around the bend it grows cold.
Distant rooster crows.

The stream is now ice;
In one place water bubbles
Racing against freeze.

The frozen green leaves
Hang motionless from the bush,
Folded to themselves.

Two dogs come running;
They race towards me and then veer.
It's a doggy game.

Bottom of the hill
My poochy friend stands waiting;
Then wags himself off.

No fair with four legs;
He stops ahead and faces me:
"What's taking so long?"

The sun is bright now;
Dark shadows fall on the road.
Still, the air is ice.

Old nest in the bush
Sits tilted towards the sun;
Hatchlings are long gone.

Ravens in the field;
Each alone hopping about.
Dark congregation.

Two dog tails wagging,
Jumping behind the fence slots;
They never get tired.

Sunlight on the bush
Illuminates the bare buds.
Forsythia waits.

Snow covered ice patch
Surrounds the slender tree trunk;
Tree will last longer.

Fir trees are lit up;
Dead leaves and moss are glowing.
A winter light show.

Old washing machine
Still waits in the empty field,
Now joined by beer can.

An empty wasp nest
Hangs from the abandoned house;
Two deserted shells.

White dog in window
Jumps up and down toy in mouth;
He wants me to play.

The field's asleep now;
Spring green has lost to dead brown;
Three crows hop along.

Sprinkle on the slate
Like confectioner's sugar
But it's really snow.

Animals are slow--
Two chickens follow the goat;
A winter parade.

Whiteness hear and there,
Sprinkled over the stream rocks,
Dusting the driveways.

Today is Monday;
Weekenders have gone back home.
Road is mine again.

Brightly the white pond
Glares blankly through the bare trees;
Snow is in the air.

Black-white birds flutter;
Black dog trots along gray road;
Like an old movie.

The sun is crisp and clear;
Tall grass are tufts of shadows;
The mailbox door creaks.

Still water is ice,
Twisting lines on its surface;
Lone bird cries sharply.

Old lady bending
Tries to shut frozen mailbox;
Both of them creaky.

Wind in the bright woods
Whispering a frozen tale.
Woodpecker rattles.


Shooting waves of sun
Break and fall against the trees.
Shadows rule the woods.

Bluejay in bushes
Hops deftly from branch to branch;
There's no concealment.

The dappled stream bed
Filled with sunshine and dead leaves
Dreams now of water.

The rusty mail box
Stands with its door half open
Waits to trap letters.

Circles in the ice
Go nowhere--they are frozen;
They must wait 'til Spring.

The sky is ice blue;
Not a cloud blocks the sunshine.
Where does the snow hide?

Gray sky and dog barks;
Wood smoke puffs out a chimney;
Cold wind up the field.

Neatly stacked boxed wood;
Each piece fits like a puzzle
Soon to be undone.

Blanket of ivy
Covers the upright dead tree
Masking death with life.

Lichen glows yellow
Picking up the rays of sun;
Then it fades to green.

Barking fills the woods--
Invisible angry yaps:
Dog cacophony.

Layered stone juts out,
Icicles droop from its chin;
A face in the hill.

Old dog sits on the hill;
Higher up his brother lies.
Two old sentinels.

Large tree stump snout
Lies with two dark knot hole eyes:
A still timber wolf.

Fierce German shepherd
Stops, stares and then comes to me
Wagging his large tail.

Small frozen patches;
Lines of ice along the road.
Now winter is here.

"Cheer! Cheer!" cries the bird;
Sun reflects off the blank ice
Bouncing off the stream.

The road becomes still
Save the ringing in my ears
And my footstep sounds.

Birds above the road
Like bits of dust in the air
Sparkled by the sun.

Now red berries rule
Illuminating dead brown
On spider branches.

Sunlit icicles
Hang transparent in the sun
Basking in their death.

Baseball in the woods
And football in the front yard
Waiting for playmates.

Bright sun and crisp breeze;
Orange ribbon blows gently.
Where is the winter?

A swirling ice patch
Glistens in the bright sunlight.
The sky is clear blue.

Dead log on the ground;
Dead vines are wrapped around it.
Who is fooling whom?

The woods seem so still;
Bare branches, dead leaves don't move.
Unseen lone goose honks.

Another season:
Christmas bells on the mailbox.
They're a bit fainter.

Barking dog bounds down
A mass of gleeful whining;
Wriggles and runs off.

Black stripes on the road:
The sun blasts the bare tree trunks
And casts down shadows.

Squashed fur on the road--
Tiny mousy legs stick out.
Life is to the swift.