Like Tears Suspended

Mysterious fog
Has descended through the trees
Touching them softly.

The mountain has gone
Leaving a thick wall of gray--
Soft but determined.

Wind blows up the road
Sweeping mist from the white field.
Geese honk in their house.

The ragged tree stump
Made vivid in its wetness,
Seems to come alive.

Beacons through the mist--
Two lights break through the thick gray;
A car rolls towards me.

Hanging from branches
Crystalline globes of water,
Like tears suspended.

Breaking through the fog
Bright black and yellow fingers
Try to point the way.

Milky fog on road
Eludes me as I approach;
Laughing wind  in woods.

Universe Descends

Sky is filled with white;
Myriad flakes of snow falling;
Not one makes a sound.

Universe descends--
Each flake different than the next.
(That is what they say).

As the world turns white
The two cows find a bare spot;
(Always place to eat).

A curtain of white
Obscures the little pine grove.
Two crows pass above.

Wind and cars and snow
Combine to create white streaks
That paint the blank road.

How can this action--
A billion streaming snow flakes--
Have no sound at all?

Soft it touches trees,
Dotting them with sparks of white--
This morning's artist.

 

Silence grows deeper
Save for the crunch of my feet
On the growing white.

Space for Arguments

 

Brilliant sunshine falls
On the snow in my front lawn
Extending shadows.

As a car goes past
Its sound goes after it--
Aural history.

A small dry leaf blows
Looking like a butterfly
On the icy snow.

Stream tinkles softly--
Faint music in the cold morn;
Plane hums bass above.

 St, Francis stands watch
As he does every winter;
He doesn't mind cold.

In the iced snow bank
Delicate pine saplings grow;
They are everywhere!

Through spider branches
I see the clouds moving
Ever so slowly

Space for arguments
Even if there's no one there.
(What was it about?)

It Is a Heat Wave

Why are we worried
When the temperature is twelve?
It is a heat wave!

Coffee is roasting;
The morning sun is rising.
(Is this a new day?)

 

My giant maple
Rooted firmly in the ground
Loyally won't fall.

 

Wrapped in frigid blue
News waits on end of driveway;
(It's no longer hot).

 

In this subdued light
Black birds fly across the road
In utter silence.

 

  In the frigid snow
Small willowy pine saplings
Continue to grow.

Bright shiny surface:
Sun slides across the iced snow
But doesn't touch it.

Clear ice crystals form,
But the water keeps flowing
In the wooden tub.

Thank God for Warm Clothes!

Today--one degree;
Will we keep sinking lower,
Or rise with the sun?

Icy snow shines bright
In the woods across the street--
Crystalline gleaming.

Whisked clouds in blue sky;
Warm pungent smell of the barn;
(Fingers are freezing).

 

Silently they dart
Out of trees into bushes--
Little birds searching.

Shadow on the rock,
An early morning etching.
Catch it while you can!

Frost above stream;
Ice slowly taking over--
War of elements.

Now without the sun
The dead orange leaf is dull.
(It glowed yesterday).

Road side stream is ice;
The world's becoming frozen.
Thank God for warm clothes!