Like Fallen Stars

 

Brightness in the air;

Maybe it's forsythia

Echoing the light.

Everything is still;

Just the wind chime sways slightly

In the empty air.

Melting into wood

Ant scurries on the railing

With no place to go.

Olivia's head

Raised at just the right angle

To get a good scratch.

Above the swift stream

Dandelion looks over

Content in its place.

Forsythia goes,

Its petals dotting the ground

Like fallen stars.

Trash cans upended--

Bears have taken the good stuff.

(They have no manners).

He says it is "quince"--

These soft gentle red blossoms;

But what is in a name?

Full, Not Forbidding

Wind chime pendulum

Swinging slow, hypnotically

In the faintest breeze.

White flower bush glows

As it sways in the breezes

That shake the wind chimes.

Munching contented

Collette plows through the mud plants

While her friend watches.

A few blossoms grow

From the barren lilac tree

Dainty and lonely.

Softer than joggers

Bicyclist whirs swiftly by

Smoother than the wind.

As old petals drop

New petals prepare to bloom--

Forsythia dance.

By side of the road

A small green wilderness stands,

Full, not forbidding.

Right by the mailbox

Stretching yellow tentacles:

Forsythia reach.

Lights Up the Morning

It's almost time now--

Thirsty rhododendrons drink

Gentle Spring rain drops.

No food and no birds--

It's a simple calculus

As ancient as life.

Forsythia falls--

First petals carpeting the ground

Signal the deluge.

Collette reaches high

To catch leaves on other side;

(Isn't it always?)

Two wild geese strutting--

Awkward. Not air. Not water;

Exploring the land.

Down by the stream bank

Vivid group of yellow blooms

Lights up the morning.

Christmas ornaments

Have fallen from the mailbox

Leaving gaudy trash.

At base of dark tree

Dandelions shine brilliant--

Spring's many contrasts.

Dreaming Its Dark Dreams

 It's so very late;

The sun does not know the time--

It's not to be seen.

White and yellow rule,

Illuminate my front yard.

Still no lavender.

Mirrors on my porch;

Same bird sitting on same wire;

Forest is singing.

Crumpled on the road,

Wrinkled, wet and colorful:

Discarded flyer.

Drawing attention,

Its own shades of beige and brown;

Bi-colored tree trunk.

Rising above green,

Brown dead evergreen tree--

Its own illusion.

With its mouth open

Old tree trump sits in the woods

Dreaming its dark dreams.

From the gray gravel,

Lifeless, hard and crumbling

Billowing green plants.

There's No Stopping Life

A week from today

Off to see aunt Charlotte--

Thence to Seattle.

A soft opening--

Sun cannot tell  time of day;

Afternoon? Morning?

Between gray slate tiles

Dandelions pop their heads.

There's no stopping life.

Billowing Spring scents

Up the road and tantalize,

Touching my nostrils.

Sole forsythia

Climbs higher than its fellows,

Heading for the sun.

Perpetual dog

Barks every time I walk past;

(I never see him).

Single daffodil

Pops up where the crocuses

Bloomed and disappeared.

Angry thoughts collide

With the sky and fragrant woods

Leaving me senseless.