Maybe They Will Learn

Folded brown leaf lies

Neatly, next to the old broom--

Waiting on the porch.

Its green leaves outstretched

Catching the rays of the sun

Seems to wave at me.

Poised like a dancer:

Heron at edge of the pond

Watching me watch him.

Small green leaves climbing

Over the gray brown tree stump

Whisper life to it.

From the dark forest

A flat smooth patch shines brightly:

Flowing stream below.

Mysterious road

Appears to me on my walk.

I've never seen it.

Bouquet of briers

Erupts from the steel road fence.

Present,  anyone?

Bears have knocked it down

But they can't pick the lock yet.

(Maybe they will learn.)