Even Stumps Have Caps

Slight breath of warmth
Hangs in the winter air;
Contented hen clucks.

Long shadows extend
Across the flattened snow field--
Two two dimensions.

Soft, rounded snow dune
By the side of the still stream
Basks in the bright sun.

Snow plow and the snow
Conspire against the young pine
Who bows to their weight.










Woodpecker's rattle
Crescendos in the forest;
Distant rooster crows.

Long slender fingers
Of a desiccated pine
Hang from a branch.











Even stumps have caps,
Hemisphered and winter white
To keep the cold in.












In just one moment
Gray clouds drift across the sun
Darkening the road.

All Comes In Its Time

White puffs descending
Through the bright lit winter air;
A sun snow shower.









Hopping in the bush:
Small, chubby, black and white bird,
Close to the window.

The dark mirrored stream
Reflects the trees on its face
Rippled so slightly.









Winter trampoline--
A ring circling emptiness
Embracing a void.













Brown leaves still hang on;
Others long buried in snow.
All comes in its time.

Wind blows up the hill
Hollow whispers in my ear.
Can't make out the words.

A green leafed plant grows;
Its berries long disappeared,
Their stalks to the sun.









Now, the swing is full;
Its occupant frozen white.
Its human long gone.

Outside the cow moos;
Inside, mother answers call;
Echoes in the barn.

Rising above snow
Old skeletal Queen Anne's Lace.
Group of birds cry high.

Birds cry, a door slams;
Two workmen talk on the hill;
My boots crunch on the road.




Tracks in the shadows,
Dark and hollow on the snow.
They both come and go.

The sun is brilliant,
Illuminating the snow.
Yet it sheds no warmth.

My familiar hill
Bathed now in morning shadows,
As steep as always.












A little dog yips,
Its shouts echo from the woods;
Racing car sprays dirt.










Tree has fallen down;
Weight of winter was too much;
It bows to the earth.

With branches outstretched
Young fir embraces the air;
Dogs in parked car yap.

Inauguration

Bright morning sun light
Streaks across the frozen field
Bringing hope of Spring.










Thrown out Christmas tree
Lies under snow against a fence;
A new season comes.

Eaten Christmas trees,
Skeletons against the fence.
The goats have all gone.

Old familiar road
Has changed to shadowed dirt path.
Anything can happen.

Beyond the forest
Clear blue light shines through the trees.
Promise of a lake.

In row upon row
Young pines wear white winter hats;
Always green beneath.

New bird is singing;
I've heard him call in the Spring.
He takes me forward.












The sun drenched driveway,
Snow covered, winding brightly
Carries my fancies.

Curve and Flow Like Waves of Light

Icicles shine bright;
Dropping frozen from the eaves
In the morning sun.






Snow crystals sparkle
In sun splashes on the field.
Plane high in blue sky.

White house, barn, trees, snow--
Camouflage for the winter.
(Are owners pale, too?)

Shadows on the snow
Curve and flow like waves of light
On a frozen sea.












From the wood's darkness
An icy exhalation--
Breath of the forest.

Finely sifted snow
Falls in shadows from the trees--
Burst of light and dark.

Today the road's brown
With dirty snow and tire tracks
Flecked with fresh white puffs.

Motion all about:
Snow clumps fall, shadows shift
All without a sound.

There is my mailbox
Wrapped in a mantle of white--
Its winter fashion.

Happening snow fall--
Pillows of white descending;
Stoic cow chews cud.










Birds on white branches
Flutter and take off quickly,
Releasing white puffs.

The road is empty;
Some birds flutter noisily
Breaking the silence.


First the ice, then snow--
Indistinguishable stream
Beneath white blanket.

Small bursts of white puffs
Fall in clumps from the tree tops
Landing silently.








The frosted sumac
Upright a season too late
(Or is it early?)

I stand with camera;
Wait for swirling snow flurries.
(Could Nature care less?)

Fierce tree stump monster
Benevolent now in snow
Softened by the white.

Pale circle of light--
Gray sun filters through the clouds
Casting bluish hue.

Footprints come towards me;
They look very familiar.
Oh yes, I left them.

With soft white turrets
Rusted junk looks like castle.
Magic of the snow.

Sun Tracks on the Snow

In back of dark barn
Small bright shafts of light appear--
Crack in the wood wall.

High above the snow
Two white tracks in the blue sky
But not a murmur.

An opaque gray puddle
The stream has frozen and shrunk;
Nothing is moving.



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In the icy air
Woodpecker bangs on a tree;
Hunger is always.










A vast yellow patch
On the side of the snow bank.
Giant beast pissed here.







Sun tracks in the woods
Planted lightly on the snow
Seem to go somewhere.

Streaming in the air,
Wood smoke flows from the chimney
Caught by the icy wind.

Emerging from snow,
Slender, graceful white tree trunks.
Season of the birch.

One Below Zero

This coldest morning--
Sunlight lying across the snow
But giving no warmth.

The school bus passes;
Dark shapes are huddled inside.
Outside, my feet crunch.










A flat lake of snow
Surrounded by bending trees
In silent shadows.

Barking dog chorus
Serenades me from the house.
Silent snow clumps fall.

Pieces of sunshine
Burst out brightly on the road
But form lines in woods.










Sculptured white object
Stands next to the artist's barn;
It's really his car.












Wrapped in clear plastic--
Mailbox bundled against cold.
Everything's freezing.

In Spring, a stream bed;
Now under snow and shadows.
Still, it curves gently.