I'm A Child Again

A tinge of yellow
On the forsythia bush;
The air is heavy.

Tilting to the right;
Sign seems to regain balance;
Rough winter's over.















How gray the morning
Rushing streams push on swiftly;
Softly blowing breeze.

Red truck approaches;
It flashes its lights at me;
It's my friend Samvid.











Footballs in the mud;
Crumpled soccer net is down.
The games are over.

Green, mushy and wet;
The woods exude a faint smell.
I'm a child again.











A quick flash of white
Disappears into the woods.
How many deer are there?

Distant cry of geese
Moves unseen across the sky;
Then all is silence.

A Mist Descending

A mist descending
Permeates the air and field.
I breathe in moisture.










Lawn is a puddle;
Thin streams run along the road;
Water rules the day.


Fog lifts from the hill--
A white billowing smokiness
Without any fire.










New lakes and rivers;
Small hanging drops of water;
Green buds on the branch.

The soggy forest:
A mass of mushy dead leaves
And pools of water.








The last piles of snow
Nearly gone from the road side--
Debris of winter.













A telephone pole
Turned upside down and backwards
In a mud puddle.












A luscious green swamp
Springing up across the road
Brings light to the field.

Hawks in a Black Sky

Any minute now
Blue gray clouds will open up
And Spring rain will fall.












Fence, trees and stacked logs--
The world overflows with wood--
Buckets and branches.










The stream sounds hollow,
As if waiting for the sky
To break and fill it.

Tapping in the woods
Could be a shy woodpecker
Wanting quiet space.










The stone saint has turned;
Now his back is to the road.
What does it all mean?

Few white flakes drift by
Latecomers to the party
Who have lost their way.

A million years old,
Once covered by deep oceans
Rock sits in the woods.












Near abandoned house
Green plants grow between the cracks
Of the untrod slate.

Portals in a Tree

Dry leaves, sunny lawn;
It seems like Autumn again,
Save for the promise.

Taking a moment
From grazing and chewing cud
Old cow checks me out.

Mabel comes running,
Belly low and ears flapping,
Barking her low bass.











Forsythia buds
Appear shyly in the branch.
Where did they come from?

Bristling with shadows
Road curves out of sight again.
Now there's just silence

Evergreen needles
Translucent in the sun rays
Light up the road side.











A swirl of water
Frozen in a flash of time
By side of the road.















Portals in a tree--
Holes give glimpse of what's beyond
Like a ship at sea.

Who Was it Yelled "Fore?"

It's almost freezing;
Still the sun says "not winter."
Yet it's not quite Spring.















Walking with Premda
I listen to her stories
Of friends near and far.













Bottom of the tree
Little green sprouts pushing up--
Not there yesterday.














Far from the fairway
Golf ball lies in the dead leaves.
Who was it yelled "fore?"

Who Was it Yelled "Fore?"

It's almost freezing;
Still the sun says "not winter."
Yet it's not quite Spring.












Walking with Premda
I listen to her stories
Of friends near and far.











Bottom of the tree
Little green sprouts pushing up--
Not there yesterday.












Far from the fairway
Golf ball lies in the dead leaves.
Who was it yelled "fore?"

Different Agendas

They said it would rain,
But the sun keeps on peeking
Through the thick gray clouds.









A maze of black wires
Criss crossing over the road
Let in some blue sky.

Two streams together
Pour through the narrow culvert
Turn into torrent.

The snow banks are gone;
Fence still leans in submission
To a melted foe.









Shadows come quickly;
The sun paints the magic lawn
Then goes somewhere else.









The ghost tea party
Lit up in the sunny woods
Ready to begin.

Large urn on a stump
Awaits offerings from the sun.
Flurry of bird cries.









Look very closely--
Waterfall seems gigantic
From one foot away.

The cat and the ducks
Watch each other carefully.
Different agendas.

Spring Comes to My House

A slow breaking sun
Peeks shyly out of the clouds--
Morning is begun.














After the deluge
A river runs past my house;
Below the stone wall.

Two robins courting
Leap fluttering in the air.
A break of blue sky.

Small lakes near the road
Are formed by the racing stream.
School bus rushes past.

Sudden break of sun
Lights up shadows on the trees
Just for an instant.















Tearing sound in woods
Not made by an animal
Rips trees asunder.














Wind blows up the hill
Navigating the sharp bend
Rushing past my ear.

Two honking wild geese,
Their bellies lit by the sun
Soar above my head.

A touch of purple
Under the rhododendrons.
Spring comes to my house.