Crying Out of the Blankness

Snow is in the air,
Not yet falling in the gloom;
Suspended in gray.

Road without shadows;
Sky without a hint of sun.
Hens still peck and cluck.

"It goes right through you,"
The humidity, they say.
(But it stays inside).

A thrown orange peel
Provides a flash of color
In this gray morning.

A tangle of brush
Leading to a fallen tree:
Nature's garbage pail.

TV color flash;
Inside, old lady watches;
Outside, earth's waiting.



How many eons
Since this resting gray rock chunk
Lay beneath the sea?

Crows in empty sky
Crying out of the blankness
Add to morning gloom.

A Crystalline World

Below freezing today;
Bushes are frosted and white,
Crowned by mute sunbeams.




No wheat fields this bright;
No summer sun shines this bright;
Shadows on the house.












Leaves have a new growth--
Little white spikes have emerged--
A crystalline world.











No clouds in the sky;
No birds chirping endlessly;
Just sun, frost and me.















Perched on a fence post
A little bag that I had lost
And did not know it.

Beyond the forest--
A mechanical humming.
Mystery of sound.














Crawling up the house
A sharp shadow like a snake
Freezes as I watch.











Among leaves and stumps,
Discarded coffee cup lies
Keeping them awake.

Does This Mirror Lie?

Dark stripes on the porch;
Bare lilac bush without blooms;
Wind chimes are silent.



Through the bare bushes
Bright red chair lies on its side--
A winter recline.

Mud puddles are ice--
Swirls of wintery blankness

Under the bright sun.


Does this mirror lie
That flows beneath liquid sky--
Its own reflection?


The meeting branches
Form a window on the world.
Beyond, tall trees stand.


Three young jogging men
Pound down the road as they chat
With muted voices.


Two dogs and a man
Ascend the familiar bend
Thus transforming it.


At base of the tree,
Cluster of white mushrooms grow;
Plane roars above clouds.

The Divided Sky

How deep the darkness
On this post Thanksgiving day.
Winter is waiting.


A single fleck of snow;
The little calf is unfazed;
The mother bellows.

Snow flakes come in teams
As the gray sky opens up.
Still, the sun breaks through.

The divided sky:
Gray, dark erupting snow dots
And sun tinged bright clouds.

Lamp post in the yard--
Beacon in dark afternoon
Calls me like insect.

Now, the clouds have won;
Curtain has dropped on the sun.
Road is like a dream.

Rushing by my face
Snow flakes rush on a journey.
Who is passing whom?

The familiar bend,
Strange in the growing dark.
Just car lights brighten.

Where Nobody Comes

Bright Sunday morning;
Glass kitchen hummingbird hangs;
Sucks no hollyhocks.









Ladder, boards and paint;
Newspaper on the driveway;
Lazy Sunday morn.












Skeletal brown stalks
Once housed billowed Queen Anne's Lace.
Vitality--gone.

Sun pushes the branches
As a shadow through the leaf.
Bright solar magic.

The sun is bright now;
But it's heat has pulled away.
Above, lone bird chirps.


Where are the creatures?
They have left the road silent.
Just cars and my steps.









Much green with the brown--
Firs, ferns, ivy-- in the dead leaves.
There's always green.









Old cat has gone;
Her bowl filled with leaves on porch
Where nobody comes.

Wind is Whispering

A brief flash of sun
Welcoming and bright, then goes
(Like some folks I know).

The wind does so much
Pushing clouds out of the way,
Bringing distant smells.

A party here once;
Now balloons pasted to pole.
Was three years ago.

Bug on my jacket
Flutters on the yellow sleeve.
I think it's lost.












One splash of sunshine
And the woods are dark no more;
(Just for a second).












Wind is whispering;
I cannot understand it.
But the trees respond.









A log in the ditch
Bleaches in the fleeting sun;
Soon covered by leaves.












Leaf on a pole
Captured by the spider vine;
Seed puff on a bush.

It's Autumn Roulette

The sun was just out;
Now the porch is shiny wet.
It's Autumn roulette.

The first flakes of snow
Lie crystalline on the leaves.
It's just a warning.









The wood smoke rises;
It veers gently to the right--
Gaseous weather vane.

Snow is everywhere;
On logs, moss and old tree stumps--
No flakes are falling.










Wandering lichen
Have fallen from the tree trunks
To grow on the road.

Cold pregnant moisture;
Waiting silence of the earth;
Ripples in the clouds.



The sun peeks through the clouds;
The road and dead leaves glisten.
Then it hides again.

Fresh patch of clover
Grows next to the two dead stumps.
Must think it's Springtime.

Water Rules Today

Echoes of gunshots
Punctures the gray morning air.
Breeze lifts tree branches.

On Ohayo Road
Nobody waves back at me.
They're going places.

Amidst the chaos
Of bare and twisted branches,
An abandoned nest.

Water rules today;
Racing streams and pregnant sky
And liquid mirrors.

My heart is heavy;
My mind is full of thoughts.
Must be the weather.









Amid the dead brown
Tiny patch of reddish leaves--
Maple saplings grow.












From a wall of rocks
Thin tree reaches to the sky.
How does it do that?












Those bright yellow leaves--
They were once deep vibrant green.
Who took their color?