Tiny white flowers Grow wild all over my lawn. How can I cut them? Sitting off the road Black and white cat surveys all, Watching whatever.
The giant mailbox Has been through many seasons; What news has it held?
In dandelions Abandoned basketball lies, Soon to disappear.
The empty stream bed Flows barren among the trees Promising water.
Sign says no pooping; It pictures a shitting dog. But what about squirrels?
Between the two trees Gray cat sits like a statue. Is it a statue?
Locked in an embrace Shelf fungi cling to dead tree Linked there forever.
Small mini white blooms Sprinkle up throughout the woods; Not here yesterday.
Yellow hemispheres Perched glowing on slender stems-- Dandelions rule.
Yellow and purple A half rainbow of flowers Sits by the roadside.
The darkened barn door Opens into a black void; Is anything there?
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
A morning stillness; Everything is in its place. The barn door is dark.
Shade of the fir tree Nourishes a bed of green-- Soft coexistence.
Crow sits on a branch Cackling loud with pleasure: "It's good as it gets." Pastel orange blooms Peek shyly from the tree limbs Drinking in the shade.
The deep dappled woods Play with the light and shadows Remaining so still.
Faint smoke and shadows; Long white line across the sky; Lone pale butterfly.
Two rotten tree stumps Sitting facing each other Whispering of death. Against the dead leaves Dandelions go to seed; Others still budding.
Rusted in the woods Ancient mechanical piece-- Unwitting sculpture.
Near imprisoned woods, Next to the no dog poop sign Sits a home made bench.
The shy woodpecker Quickly hides around the tree; Known just by his sound.
Swift tiny spider Darts zigzag across the road-- "It's unstoppable"*
*with acknowledgments to Lucy Bluestone Gilbertsen
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Crisp morning breeze blows Yet the clouds seem fixed and still; Pine trees speak the wind.
Robins in the field Have a universe to peck; Just where to begin?
Buds against the sky Soon to form a canopy; Now just bide their time. Rigid gray stone saint Presides over the flowers-- (Maybe the reverse).
Dead leaf among buds Is not ready to let go; The wind will decide.
Luminescent leaves Sprinkled all over the woods Mark the march of spring. Swooping from nowhere The large hawk dips, glides and floats Raking the shadows
Surrounded by wire The yellow plant stands alone: Caged forsythia.
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Slender white birch tree Catches the morning sunshine Yellow buds blooming.
The black and white cat Sits patiently in the grass Waiting for something.
Sign "Children At Play"; Nobody is playing here. Where are the children? Chirp and a flutter, Then rustling in the tree; A bird emerges.
Shadows on the tree: Two birds lift into the sun Taking their darkness.
Old dead limbs reach out Grasping at the empty air; Above them--green buds.
Many shades of light-- The woods are dappled today. Soft woodpecker throbs.
Illuminated-- Leaves, blossoms glow in the sun; If they could, they'd laugh.
Walking in sunshine I conjure an argument; How silly I am.
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Three goats are posing; One eats, two watch camera; A family portrait.
Stretched out in the sun, Little Basset dreams of smells, Stubby leg twitching.
Against the blue sky Bare branches silhouetted Embrace the sunshine.
In the shadows of the woods By a moss covered long log I enjoy a piss.
Green buds everywhere Dotting a million branches; Two honking wild geese.
The blackened tree stump Stands next to the tall maple Whispering its fate.
Tiny white flowers Burst from the buds of the tree. How did they get there?
The sign says "Our Road"; The name is growing fainter: "Sic transit gloria."
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Air is cool and moist, Laden with the smell of blooms; Goats stand watching me.
Blue jay skims the road, Flies towards some destination Then dissolves in pines. Faded old wood sign Hammered on the dead tree trunk Points nowhere to go.
Old wire near old fence-- Neither keeps anything out. Two unfinished tasks.
Old tree has a mouth, Lips frozen in mid-sentence. What was that you said?
A splash of lichen From some yellow-green paintbrush Illustrates the tree. Rickety old house Tries to keep up appearance But there's no one there.
Lone purple flower Pops up from its bed of green Like small feisty grapes.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Dark empty barn door; Mystery figure inside-- Curious old goat.
Dandelion bunch; Splash of yellow in green field. Birds call and answer. Red letters shouting In the still of the morning Just one word: IMPEACH Barking car passes; Driver looks very resigned To her loud mouthed dogs.
Moss on dead tree's roots Transform the rotting tree trunk Into life again. Shadow on the tree Like a ghost waiting for me; It's just a shadow.
Forest of fir trees Has emerged in a few months. It's unstoppable!
First, the wind is faint, Then it gathers through the woods Shouting its whisper. Miniature forest Lies hidden on a boulder. Are we thus observed?
Green buds in the sun Wave on the gentle spring breeze; Lilacs wait their turn.
Whispering pine trees Bend their heads close together; Gossip about wind.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Light breaks through the mist; Four goats enjoy the sunshine; Shadows reappear.
Greedy water plant Drinks deep from the running stream; Its thirst is unslaking.
Working at his job Woodpecker hammers away. Lawn mower revs up.
Four honking wild geese Silhouetted against sky Make such a racket.
Timidly walking She rushes in front of me-- Endless gulf between. Small yellow flower Pops up to greet the sunshine From its bed of leaves.
On edge of the cliff Roots of the dead tree still hold; Death clinging to life.
A tender green sprout Grows next to the giant tree Dreaming its future.
Hopeful tufts of chives; Soon they will disappear-- Purr of lawn mower.
Rustle in the bush-- Birds in the forsythia Can't match its brilliance.
Poking through dead leaves Purple flowers rear their heads. Where did they come from?
The little Basset Pokes its nose between the fence. (It's always nose first).
Friday, April 27, 2007
Road is a mirror; The spring rain has stopped for now; Birds chirp joyously.
Sky is one big cloud Embracing all in blue/gray, Silhouetting trees.
Gentle falling mist Kisses my face and eyebrows; Whisper of wetness. Shining mud puddles Reflect the towering trees And bring them to earth.
First red eft of spring Stunned by the cold and vast road Pauses to take stock. The ghostly mountain Hides behind a veil of mist. Is it really there?
Lightly on a branch A dove looks this way and that; Graceful silhouette. Softly plush and green Moss cushions the ancient rock. A fairy's pillow.
Black wires, spider trees, Silhouettes cut through the sky. Morning of starkness.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Lump on a tree limb: Fat bird sits on a bare limb Then flutters away. Sun filters through clouds, Soft shadows fall on the road; Distant furnace hums.
A cluster of trees, One with moss, one with lichen Unlike each other. Riot of yellow-- Forsythia trumpets spring; Birds soars out of bush.
Dark field guardians Sit like statues on the grass. When I stop, they growl. Broken rotten stump Covered with moss and lichen; Now green rules the day.
Stone wall far below Divides long forgotten claims, Wanders aimlessly.
A fright of yellow Standing spiky and alarmed-- Forsythia's here!
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Yellow bursts--slate gray, Dull day with forsythia; Birds hoot and dogs bark.
Everything seems distant: Bird trills, stream bubble, plane hum, And the deep gray sky.
Faded pink ribbon Hangs from the green leaved bush branch-- A distant glory.
Moss, leaves and ivy; A myriad of green shades Paint the forest floor.
A quiet grayness Settles on the road and woods; Rain is in suspense.
The two old beer cans Lie in the woods head to head Bemoaning their fate.
Chatter in the woods; All talking at the same time-- Bird cacophony.
Fierce animal glares Poised still among the dead leaves. Oh! It's a tree stump.
It's the third season-- Phone book's still in the tree's crotch. Still, nobody calls.
Thick gray hanging bells-- Shelf fungus on the old tree; Steps for tiny birds.
Friday, April 20, 2007
Rooster crows again Sharp shadows on old barn wall; Even clouds welcome.
Robin on bare branch Sits as quiet as a stone. Nearby stream rumbles.
Small yellow/green buds Poke out along the bare branch-- Forsythia birth.
The old charred tree trunk Stands next to its fallen limb-- Ancient lightening strike.
Ornament is back, Hanging bright from the mailbox. Christmas in April.
Small pines guard the path, Just a whisper of a trail That's going nowhere.
Small yellow flowers Poke out from the dead brown leaves. Daisies smile at spring.
Sun sparkled water Trickles down musically. Another spring voice.
White pickup speeds by; White husky stands in the back Looking bewildered.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Black spots on the slate: Raindrops in the warm spring air; A welcoming breeze.
There are three dogs now; New dog jumps, barks, runs at me; She's just visiting.
Main color is brown; Dead leaves blanket the forest. Little bursts of green.
Snow shovel face down; Basketball lies further on. What was and will be.
Light rain is falling, Swiftly on the road and snow Ticking and tapping.
A swooping cardinal Glides swiftly across the road And into the woods.
Thick white smoke ahead Pours from the old house chimney. Is there a new Pope?
Rings in the puddles; Rain drops ping on the surface Exploding circles.
Slim, straight, green clusters Stand together--some drooping; The first chives of spring.
A cry in the woods Sounds like maniacal child. What creature is this?
Friday, April 13, 2007
Fresh snow on the ground; Sky is ready to disgorge; A wacky April.
Like a brown fur rug Schnauzer curls up on the ground Deep in doggy sleep.
Broken old wood fence; Bottom rung lies on the ground, Still good for leaning.
A few random flakes Floating, spinning through the air As if they are lost.
Mud puddles in snow-- Two seasons overlapping. Permeable time.
Old dog on the road Sits down, waits for me to pass; We eye each other.
Two old black sphinxes Sit side by side near the house-- Guard its mysteries.
A small pile of snow Looks like curled up kid's white doll Simply cast away.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Barn cat in the field Stalks, black and white against brown; Silly camouflage.
Forsythia stubs Cut to clear the way for cars: Slow nature/fast cars.
Blue and white ribbon Hangs delicately from branch: Surveyor's imprint.
It is cold today; Wind and sun chase each other; It's hard to find snow.
The last piles of snow Stand around the fenced in woods: "Posted: No Sunlight!"
How fast the sun flees Leaving the world cold and gray. Old black dog looks up.
Faint shadows below Where the road begins to bend Swiftly fade away.
Black dogs in the woods Exploring the burgeoning smells Eye me warily.
Small flat metal bell Nailed to the old wooden pole; Thoughts of old Ma Bell.
Brown rotten tree stump Stands in front of rotten trunk Next to firm stone wall.
Rushing stream rises Shaking hanging ice finger. How long will it last?
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Time for gloves again; Sun and clouds play hide and seek; The wind ignores both.
How plain the field is: Rolling brown grass and the wind With gray sky above.
Sun breaks through the clouds Bringing the hope of spring birth. It's Easter Sunday.
Puddles have frozen; Forest stands at winter's door. Snow piles still clutter.
The whispering wind Repeats its frozen message: "Know! Know! Know! I'm here!"
Solitary flake Floats aimlessly to the ground. Now there are others.
Two puffing joggers Strain as they run up the hill. Do you call that fun?
"Ahead Stop Bus School" The sign is turned upside down; Is the bus also?
Cluster of pale turds Lie together off the road. They've survived winter.
Now the sun is out Transforming winter to spring In just an instant.
Snow flake in the sun Lands on the page and then melts-- Very short life span.
Pup twirls in window His yips muffled by the glass. Is he nuts or what?
Saturday, April 07, 2007
White frost on the ground; Nervous bird chirps and flutters; Chill wind swirls around.
The shadows are dull; Sun seems half hearted today. What's it waiting for?
Roadside snow hangs on; Frozen patches here and there. Will it ever melt?
Today woods look deep; Bare trees go on forever In shadows and light.
Narrow old dirt road Twists and bends into the woods Where it joins the trees.
Dark shadow on bush Looks like one more sumac bud. Then it flies away.
My doggy friends bark; They do not recognize me. Am I different?
Each smiling, we pass Beaming on the day's wonder-- Great to be alive.
Clear fingers of ice Hang over the rushing stream. Today, water rules.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Puddles in the field-- Yesterday's rain stays around In the bright sun.
Fenced in bright white goose Even brighter in the sun; Rooster crows next door.
Tardy wood stove starts-- Smells like paper not like wood; Winter is still here.
A saucy robin Hops on the bush next to me; It's fearless hunger.
Woods look like marsh land, Dappled with pools of water; Near unmelted snow.
Green haze in the woods-- Sun illumines grass and moss: Harbingers of spring.
Beer can in the bush Trapped, flung from a speeding car; Nature's prisoner.
Beer bottle on hill Must have taken a great throw From misguided jock.
Brown U.P.S. truck Lumbars down the old dirt road; April Santa Claus.
White sign on a tree Visible deep in the woods; Just what could it say?
A dead splattered frog In the middle of the road-- Early on all counts.
Return feels warmer; Is it direction, time, wind Or just coming home?
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Same bend in the road; Same mystery around it; Some things never change.
Phantom on the tree; Road breaks open like an egg-- Oh. It's April Fool.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Trees and road are still; Only the stream sparkles move. Earth takes a deep breath.
Shadow crosses road Stealthily and silently And then just lies there.
Shadows rule just now, Crisscrossing the road and woods, Dappling the bushes.
A few snow patches Lie near the side of the road Gray and soot covered.
Red sign on the tree: "Private. Do Not Enter Here." The squirrel ignores it.
Light through the brown leaves Infuses an eerie glow; Echoes of last spring.
Old dog lifts his head, Looks at me and plops back down; Used to growl and bark.
Ancient dead brown log Disintegrating slowly, Rejoining the earth.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Cool air and bright sun; Clean spring smell is all around. Still there are snow banks.
Dove sits on a wire, Framed against the clouds and sky Flutters and takes off.
Is this the same field Recently covered with white? Not a trace remains.
Bottles, cans, paper-- Spring rain's uncovered the rubbish: Human detritus.
Rusty table, chair Are huddled deep in the woods; Ancient tea party.
Open garbage can Freed of its collected crap Breathes a silent sigh.
Pickup truck drives by; He does not return my wave. "Fuck you, too, Charlie!"
Drumming in the woods Sounds like beating on trash cans; Just a woodpecker.
Snow still in the woods Protected by the pine trees; Sun will soon prevail.
Discarded fruit jar-- Excuse me while I throw up. Pigs can be people.
Squirrel poised on the lawn Maybe thinks it's a statue. Whoops! Where did it go?
Four chunky brown turds Wait on the side of the road For the unaware.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Snow as memory: Patches lie hither and yon. It's almost April.
Like two school children Couple slips into the woods. They're smiling shyly.
Far into the woods Some snow patches still remain Surrounded by bird cries.
Dead tree on the ground; Its bare limbs reach towards the sky. That will do no good.
The wire fenced in woods-- Snow seems deeper around it. Not ready for spring.
Small birds on the rocks-- Not a drink but a picture. They peck frantically.
Dead leaves climb the hill Blown by the gentle wind's gust. Then they tumble down.
Squirrel tumbles in the sun Flicking his way to the tree; Then twitches around it.
Shadows splash the road; Thin bare tree limbs shine like webs. I unzip my coat.
Robin flies to branch, Waits patiently 'til I leave, Then back to the ground.
Snow has receded Exposing the old beer cans. They have no season.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Dirt path is clear now; Bright shadows speckle the road; Electric wire hums.
Treacherous ice patch Lies in the bend of the road; Winter's last surprise.
Dark streams take over, Rushing, gushing, whispering; Snow banks melt away.
Still pools of water Scattered among the pine trees: Mirrors in the woods.
Mixed chorus of geese Passes noisily above; They're not to be seen.
One tall grass pops up; Small bird flies into the sun Using its springboard.
Sun on soaking leaves; Roadside stream tinkles softly Throwing off sparkles.
Window dog is out Bouncing, yipping on the snow. World is much too large.
Two yellow cat eyes Stare from the living room window: Stella's honor place.
Friday, March 23, 2007
Brown patches appear; Snow banks recede in the warmth. The earth is released.
Gray melting ice patch Encroaches on the snow field; Soon all will be wet.
Streams branch and rejoin Cutting dark swathes in the snow Chortling as they go.
Moist green forest moss Glistens in a snow free patch; Stream tinkles nearby.
Deer crosses the road; We stop, stare at each other, Then we continue.
Roadside snow is gray Splashed with gravel and dirt. The earth advances.
Two cans one bottle Huddle together like friends In a hostile wood.
My black doggy friend Trots to me wagging its tail And passes right by.
Rumble under snow: Stream rushes underneath it-- Dark hidden power.
