Back To Back They Face

Between holidays

Birds are still celebrating

In their flurried way.

Where are the squirrels?

Last year a pain in the ass;

Now, a memory.

Waiting in the trees

The bird becomes its branches

While disappearing.

Back to back they face

Covering each other's ass

Like true comrades do.

Outside the steel fence

Queen Anne's Lace husk stands freely;

(To sad that it's dead.)

Edge of the forest

Someone has tied a sign

To forgiving tree.

Shadows in the woods

Are protected by the trees

Which provide safety.

Never frozen tub

Reflects the neighboring trees--

A liquid mirror.

Never Seem to Catch

Around the tree trunk:

Two squirrels chasing each other;

Never seem to catch.

A flash of bright light;

Shadows emerge on the snow,

Then clouds take over.

Falling constantly,

Sometimes these drops from my eaves

Will take a short break.

Collette's enjoyment

Licking Olivia's butt

Seems to have no bounds.

St. Anthony's back,

Head bowed among the dried plants;

His resurrection.

Trapped in bare branches,

Leaf trembles in the light breeze,

But still stays in jail.

Some random branches

Form a picture or a sign--

A rune on the road.

Leaning on ladders

Two young men patch the barn roof

Keeping out the snow.

Winter Tug of War

 Tree limbs sway gently; 

Bird on porch pecks anxiously;

Gray sky speaks of snow.

Bird swoops gracefully

At the corner of my eye;

No birds in feeder.

Waiting to fly forth

Birds gather in the bushes;

Know I will soon leave.

Barking in the car,

Little dog wants to get out

And be somewhere else.

Barely shining through

Sun tries to break out of clouds:

Winter tug of war.

Over the roof tops

Thick gray snow clouds are waiting

For just their right cue.

White topped sharp thistles

Seem friendlier in the snow--

Bend down gracefully.

At top of the trees:

Leaves still waiting for the wind--

Their fellows have gone.

His Ass Must Be Cold

His ass must be cold:

Blue-jay sitting on ice mound.

(Doesn't seem to mind.)

Bright sun, bitter cold;

Outside looks so inviting;

Birds back at feeder.

Lady cardinal sits

By side of the chickadee;

Birds of a feather?

A forest of tracks

Lie just outside my front door;

Birds and beasts alike.

Three snow filled chairs sit

Next to the icy white swing

Waiting for the Spring.

All is frosted now

But the black mirrored stream flows

Untouched by freezing.

White puff ball flowers

Have turned to brown long ago;

White snow reminds them.

High above ladders

A man chips ice from the roof.

(Better stay inside).

Shadows on the hill

Falling up the mountainside

Further than the trees.

In This Blank Silence

World is white today,

A veil of snow descending

In soft defined clumps.

Street's silent and white; 

No rumble of the snow plows;

Just the falling flakes.

Two white horns peek out;

Olivia at barn door

Staring from darkness.

Standing rigidly

Fence posts marshall their white caps--

Winter mustering.

Snow is subsiding

And I am left with longing

For that which has been.

Far in the distance

A couple walks down the road.

(Their tracks are still here.)

Thoughts of my Charlotte

As I walk in solitude

In this blank silence.

Sounds of an airplane

High and unseen in the gray

Fills the white silence.