Leaving the World Fresh

Clean bright morning light;

Sunshine sweeps away the clouds

Leaving the world fresh.

Morning shadows fall

Silent, sharp, in their darkness;

Everything's peachy.

Even the stop sign

Sends its shadow image long

On this sunny day.

As the ice recedes

Leaves lie in the water tomb

Still, brown and peaceful.

Two uprooted trees

Touch their roots at the stream's edge;

Communication?

Is winter gone now?

Woods are filled with sharp shadows;

Mini ponds have sprung.

At the road side pond

Branches on water on leaves;

Many dimensions.

Falling on the road

Sumac shadows reach flatly--

A roadside etching.

(Wherever She Is)

February 23, 2018

Sweeping across white

Birds race to the bird feeder;

Always a handout.

February 26, 2018

February gray,

February dim, cold moist

February morn.

Bright sunlight appears;

Labyrinth of bushes shines

As if they'd been lost.

On this shadowed lawn

Solitary piece of ice

Enjoys the sunshine.

Enclosed in shadows

Mikeyla enjoys the walk

(Wherever she is)

Perched on a tree top

Crow cries into the thin air.

Distant cries respond.

Now there's just stream rush;

All snow has left the forest;

Spring is coming.

Orange peel and glove

Displayed on the road's center:

Performance still art.

Fast driving auto

Races past and disappears

Leaving just its dust.

Lullabying Their Baby

Birds in the bushes

Rustle very noiselessly

In the morning drear.

My lush hanging plant

Sees itself in the mirror:

"What wonder I am."

Next to my front door

Rolling stream heads on its way--

A brief melting time.

Little Collette's grown

Larger than Olivia.

Where does the time go?

Bare trees stand starkly

Against the gray blue slate sky--

(Feeling of sadness.)

Mom and dad walking,

Lullabying their baby

With soft morning stroll.

Center of the stream

Tree trunk springs up bald, tall, dead;

Water can't help now.

Old monster tree stump

Still holds the large stone captive

Over a decade.

Walk of February 18, 2018

It's President's Day.

Birds don't take a holiday;

They just keep at it.

Bird plunks from a branch;

(Thought it was a falling leaf);

Fir trees are waving.

Collette comes over,

Scratches her head on the fence,

Turns and goes away.

With just his head out

Ghost stands behind the bushes.

(Ruminating horse.)

Gray blue sky blanket

Sheds gray blue light on this world.

Shots thud from gun club.

Dappled brown and white,

Woods are astride the seasons:

Freezing and melting.

Singular pine cone

Lies in center of the road

Temporary home.

Leaves passing me by

As I journey on my walk,

Blow to their own place.

Walk of February 21, 2018

Through dirty windows

Sunlight resolves in specks:

"Through a glass darkly."

Fir trees bow and wave

Dancing outside my window

To the wind chimes' tune.

Rhododendrons rise:

Yellow candles reaching high,

Waiting for the Spring.

At edge of the pond

Father goose sits and watches

While mother goose eats.

Rushing water sounds

Fill the receptive stream bed,

Rise into the air.

No white in the woods--

All snow has melted away:

Mid February.

Father and daughter

Take an early morning stroll

On this balmy day.

Islet of water

Floats away from the main stream

And keeps on trying.