A soft gray morning;
Two men chatting hear the barn;
Sun tries to peek out.

Smoke behind the barn;
Doors open, machines humming--
Preparing for spring.









Daffodils budding;
Crocuses peek their heads out--
Hastened by humans.

The first shelf fungus
Appears on tree like magic
As if from nowhere.










Small yellow buds
On the tips of the branches;
The moss seems greener.

The dead leaves tremble;
Now they seem ready to fall--
Waiting all winter.

The old king tree stump
Crowned by moss instead of snow
Attended by fir trees.









Last year's shelf fungi
Lies at the base of the tree;
Make way for the new.

New green leaves spring out
Balanced on slender branches--
The first pioneers.

New green leaves spring out
Balanced on slender branches--
The first pioneers.

Snow is almost gone;
Man kneels in the empty field;
Garlic is coming.

A sprinkling of snow;
Behind the woods, geese calling;
Moist sweet smell of hay.









The two retrievers
Sit patiently in the car;
The fun is outside.

A distant woodpecker
Thrums its sharp staccato beat.
On the ground, robins.

A heavy dark sky,
Then the sun rolls up the road
Bringing soft shadows.

Sun and clouds see saw;
First come bright dancing shadows,
Then, a steel gray road.









Ring of ancient rocks
Surrounds the rusting tin can--
History pieces.

A cluster of birds
Fly clucking over the road
As the sun comes out.

Bree bree twit twit twit
Twah twah twah twah twah twah (caw)
Chirpa chirpa chirp.

Air is moist and clean;
Newborn goat wriggles and blinks--
Season of rebirth.

Shadows Guide the Way

Shadows guide the way,
Splashed, speckled on the road.
Incessant dog barks.












Snow is almost gone;
Brown takes over the white field;
Hopeful robin pecks.









Forsythia buds
Perceptible in the sun,
Waiting for their chance.

A tall dark shadow
Stands motionless on the road.
Is that really me?












Whooshing from behind
Car disappears round the bend
Leaving solitude.

Two grizzled brothers
Doze in the late morning sun.
It's a doggie's world.

Solid moss covered
Concrete square stands in the field;
Once a foundation.









Nestled by the fir
The plastic bag stands upright
Waiting to be filled.

Still as a statue
Robin comes to life pecking,
Then freezes again.

Shadow of a sign
Lies flat upon the tree trunk--
Miracle of light.

Illuminated
One log in the icy woods
Whispers of the spring.










Solitary snow
Guards the front of the driveway--
Refuses to melt.

Crackled ice feathers
Lie in the frozen puddle;
Not left by a bird.

Snow dusts icy field;
Curtain flaps in the barn door;
Bird speeds to safety.

Feathers in the road
Flutter in the icy wind
But they do not fly.

Leaves slide on the road;
Loud roaring comes from the woods.
Today the wind rules.

Tiny flakes of snow
Float by in the iced sunlight
Give a mixed message.

Bursting from the woods
The wind swirls up clouds of snow.
Tall trees creak and bend.









Hidden in the woods:
Rusted brown metal whozit,
Latticed, forgotten.

Underneath the rock
Three small icicles dangle
Untouched by the wind.












Old deserted house--
Blank windows stare at the road;
Inside--more blankness.

Shining on the road
Frozen tire tracks glisten
Drawn on by the sun.

Dead Branches All Around

The first day of spring;
Strong winds blow the layered clouds;
Pines bow and tremble.

Snow field is melting
Leaving small uncertain pools
Rippled by the wind.

By the roaring stream,
Small pool is trapped by tree roots
And whirls round and round.

Bared by the melting snow
Forlorn basketball appears;
It has lost its bounce.









Branches on the ground
Crashing from the tops of trees;
Wind does spring cleaning.








Dead limbs hang and lie
On the rocks and in the woods.
Make way for the spring!









Still the dead leaves cling
Through winter and now March winds;
Are they immortal?












Soft insistent snow
Has pushed back the iron fence--
Nature's persistence.

Robin in the field
Hopping and pecking for worms
Knows not it's cliché.

Shades of old barn red
Light up in the cold March sun;
Shadows on the roof.








Frozen in its place
Melting snow stops its retreat.
Ice returns today.

Bright cold morning sun
Grows shadows on the road;
Bird chirps nervously.

Two cackling crows
Exchange hoarse jokes in the air.
(No one is laughing.)












She's gliding past me,
My silent fellow traveler,
Walking through shadows.

In town, crocus sprouts;
On the mountain, icicles.
Dogs lie in the sun.

Hanging from the moss
Icicles glisten in sun.
And then it's "good-bye."









Scratching behind me
Dead leaf skitters to a halt.
Echo of the fall.