Trumpeting from Trees

February 11, 2017

A blanket of white

With a billion small white flakes

In the sky below.










White bird across tree;
Instant flutter in the green.
The fir trees are still.

Icicles hanging
From the eaves of my front porch
Drip into the snow.

Lodged in the barn roof

A bouquet of dead branches

Raised high in the snow.

White capped and erect

Fence posts stand at attention

Around the bare field.

On the hard asphalt

Trees take their arborish time

To see reflections.

Branches in the snow,

Thrown, splayed, placed in position

By unknown artist.

Trumpeting from trees:

"No Trespassing" signs announce

Their powerlessness.

Two tracks in the snow

Fork, as they pass through tree trunk.

(One magic creature?)

February 12, 2017

They call it a "storm"--

But the wind is so gentle;

The snow so quiet.

White haze in the woods;

How many of these snowflakes

Persistently fall?

Waiting in the barn

Collette watches falling snow--

A mystery mist.

Bowing with weight

Queen Anne's Lace husks

Observe the snow fall.

A ribbon of white:

Yerry Hill Road yields now

To relentless snow.

There are no sounds now

Save for the distant barking

Of a pent up dog.

In every season

Water flows into the tub;

It has no reason.