Moss is Flourishing

Where is the snow now?
Whiteness on the lawn is gone.
Is this our winter?

There's always the wind;
Tall weed shakes, fir trees swish;
Ripple through the leaves.

Moss covers my lawn;
Peter gives me a bird house;
Rooster crows at the sun.

Moss shines in the sun;
The stream is almost silent.
Is this fall or spring?

 The family has left;
Trash cans and black wrapped garbage
Are all that remains.

On rotting tree stump
A patch of vibrant green spreads;
Moss is flourishing.

Protruding from tree:
Soft fluffy piece of gray fir--
Watchful squirrel watches.

The car sounds like rain
As its tires slap the road.
Mist is in the woods.