(Worms are not Dancing)

Walks of March 23 and 24, 2018

No birds this morning;

Bird feeder is bedraggled.

A sign of Springtime?

Gray and white morning;

Monochrome winter colors

On a quiet morn.

My friend Collette comes;

She wants to lick the camera;

(It's really not sweet.)

Three dead trees lying:

Sawed off trunk, fallen branch, stump;

Aging side by side.

Woodpecker rattles

Maracas on the tree trunk;

(Worms are not dancing).

Through the tree trunk's hole

Another world can be seen:

A wooden portal.

Leaning on the tree,

Marker seems to be resting.

(All things need a break.)

Giant tree towers

Exposed at its very base.

Soon it will tumble.

Cloudless clear blue sky

Stretches to infinity

While touching my head.

Then everything is gray;

Birds continue their swooping

Indifferent to clouds.

Downed by an old storm

Mailbox lies in the forest

Mouth forever closed.

Standing on hay bales

Rooster crows to his hen flock;

Altitude is all.

Shadows on the rock;

Always different shadows fall;

Always the same rock.

Wind and ice and snow

Have brought down the iron fence

Forming a steel "V".

Radiating green

Moss lights up the old tree trunk

Welcoming the Spring.

Green sprouts springing up

Next to their snow drop neighbors:

First Spring crocuses.