A Single Reflection Lies

Empty bird feeder--

So much food and no takers.

Bird have their own will.

Swirl of brown branches---

Forsythia waits for spring,

Hiding its yellow.

The dark empty stump

Does not answer Collette's moo

Or do chirping birds.

Puffing so slowly

Wood smoke billows to the sky

To join fellow clouds.

Devoid of color

Dark leaves hang on the branches

Disintegrating.

Among the gray rocks

A single reflection lies

In the March stream bed.

Angry voices float

Down from the mountain chateau--

Mix with scenery.

Floating on water

Leaf seems as floating on air;

Under it more leaves.