Stream across the street
Glistens in the morning sun.
It keeps on moving.
Empty bird feeder
Sits as an abandoned house.
No birds surround it.
Forsythia buds
Hang from the flowerless bush,
Waiting for the Spring.
As brown as the grass,
Young deer stops beyond the pond
To give me a glance.
The familiar stream
Etched with shadows, reflections,
And the wind's ripples.
Backbone of a snake
Etched in the road side shadows
By a playful god.
Peering from the trees--
Many photos of lost cat.
(Will he not return?)
Structure emerging
From a jumble of spare logs
To a habitat.
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