Sunlight through lilacs
Make the purple buds sparkle;
Soon smell will burst forth

Throughout the green
Little blue flowers pop up
And say "Look at me!"

Silly white puppy
Doesn't realize it's outside,
Still tries to escape.




Fairies in the woods
Stop to catch the morning light,
Turn blue with delight.

Flowering treetops
Give a bouquet to the sun
And try to kiss it.

Feather in the road
Blown back and forth by the cars
Still stuck in its place.

Everything is still;
This moment there are no sounds--
Then a lone bird sings.

Deer crossing the road
Stop, stare and then disappear.
Were they ever there?

Crisp May morning wind
Trembles the leaves and bushes;
Man bends to the grass.

Smiling at the sky
Dandelion reflects sun.
Shines right back at it.













Shadows cross the road
Weaving a web of dark shapes
Indistinctly sharp.

My battery's dead;
Camera refuses to work--
I have just my eyes.

Prancing tree shadows
Shimmy darkly on the road;
They dance to the wind.

Reared against the hill
Tree sends roots back to the bank--
Defies gravity.

Puffs float through the air--
Gray white phantoms of the day;
Some will land and grow.

Kids shout, rooster crows;
New white flowers on the tree;
Plane buzzes up high.

Flurry of color;
Endless jungle of yellow--
Forsythia is.

Bending in the wind
Small white flowers on tall stems;
Who says they are weeds?

White lilacs are first
With billowing bloom and smell;
Purple cousins wait.

Huddled together
Little blue flowers blossom
In the shady woods.


















Small green umbrellas:
Maple leaves point to the ground
Waiting for water.










White in the wildness
Tree bursts forth in the brambles
Heedless of fences.













Lush cliff in the woods
Guided softly by the trees;
Nice to take a leap.

Squished in the road--
One frog that did not make it;
Now a Rorschach test.







Lying by the road
Two empty cigarette packs:
Chain litterer.

Tip of the bare branch
Green bud begins to unfold--
Languid blossoming.

Freaked caterpillar
Frantically crosses the road;
How will he make it?

Tiny white beacons
Illuminate the forest;
They will fly away.

Tiny white flowers
Grow wild all over my lawn.
How can I cut them?

Sitting off the road
Black and white cat surveys all,
Watching whatever.

The giant mailbox
Has been through many seasons;
What news has it held?

In dandelions
Abandoned basketball lies,
Soon to disappear.








The empty stream bed
Flows barren among the trees
Promising water.











Sign says no pooping;
It pictures a shitting dog.
But what about squirrels?






Between the two trees
Gray cat sits like a statue.
Is it a statue?













Locked in an embrace
Shelf fungi cling to dead tree
Linked there forever.

Small mini white blooms
Sprinkle up throughout the woods;
Not here yesterday.

Yellow hemispheres
Perched glowing on slender stems--
Dandelions rule.

Yellow and purple
A half rainbow of flowers
Sits by the roadside.

The darkened barn door
Opens into a black void;
Is anything there?

A morning stillness;
Everything is in its place.
The barn door is dark.

Shade of the fir tree
Nourishes a bed of green--
Soft coexistence.

Crow sits on a branch
Cackling loud with pleasure:
"It's good as it gets."

Pastel orange blooms
Peek shyly from the tree limbs
Drinking in the shade.



The deep dappled woods
Play with the light and shadows
Remaining so still.

Faint smoke and shadows;
Long white line across the sky;
Lone pale butterfly.

Two rotten tree stumps
Sitting facing each other
Whispering of death.

Against the dead leaves
Dandelions go to seed;
Others still budding.

Rusted in the woods
Ancient mechanical piece--
Unwitting sculpture.



Near imprisoned woods,
Next to the no dog poop sign
Sits a home made bench.

The shy woodpecker
Quickly hides around the tree;
Known just by his sound.

Swift tiny spider
Darts zigzag across the road--
"It's unstoppable"*

*with acknowledgments to Lucy Bluestone Gilbertsen

Crisp morning breeze blows
Yet the clouds seem fixed and still;
Pine trees speak the wind.

Robins in the field
Have a universe to peck;
Just where to begin?

Buds against the sky
Soon to form a canopy;
Now just bide their time.

Rigid gray stone saint
Presides over the flowers--
(Maybe the reverse).

Dead leaf among buds
Is not ready to let go;
The wind will decide.



Luminescent leaves
Sprinkled all over the woods
Mark the march of spring.

Swooping from nowhere
The large hawk dips, glides and floats
Raking the shadows









Surrounded by wire
The yellow plant stands alone:
Caged forsythia.

Slender white birch tree
Catches the morning sunshine
Yellow buds blooming.

The black and white cat
Sits patiently in the grass
Waiting for something.

Sign "Children At Play";
Nobody is playing here.
Where are the children?


Chirp and a flutter,
Then rustling in the tree;
A bird emerges.

Shadows on the tree:
Two birds lift into the sun
Taking their darkness.

Old dead limbs reach out
Grasping at the empty air;
Above them--green buds.

Many shades of light--
The woods are dappled today.
Soft woodpecker throbs.

Illuminated--
Leaves, blossoms glow in the sun;
If they could, they'd laugh.

Walking in sunshine
I conjure an argument;
How silly I am.

Three goats are posing;
One eats, two watch camera;
A family portrait.


Stretched out in the sun,
Little Basset dreams of smells,
Stubby leg twitching.








Against the blue sky
Bare branches silhouetted
Embrace the sunshine.

In the shadows of the woods
By a moss covered long log
I enjoy a piss.

Green buds everywhere
Dotting a million branches;
Two honking wild geese.

The blackened tree stump
Stands next to the tall maple
Whispering its fate.

Tiny white flowers
Burst from the buds of the tree.
How did they get there?

The sign says "Our Road";
The name is growing fainter:
"Sic transit gloria."

Air is cool and moist,
Laden with the smell of blooms;
Goats stand watching me.

Blue jay skims the road,
Flies towards some destination
Then dissolves in pines.

Faded old wood sign
Hammered on the dead tree trunk
Points nowhere to go.

Old wire near old fence--
Neither keeps anything out.
Two unfinished tasks.

Old tree has a mouth,
Lips frozen in mid-sentence.
What was that you said?

A splash of lichen
From some yellow-green paintbrush
Illustrates the tree.


Rickety old house
Tries to keep up appearance
But there's no one there.

Lone purple flower
Pops up from its bed of green
Like small feisty grapes.