Soft White Arms Embrace the Creek

No more dirty snow;
Pine trees are covered with white;
Rooster crows from barn.


Snow plows are busy
Carving roads where none exist;
Cars wear thick white caps.

Light around the dark--
Soft white arms embrace the creek;
Still it keeps flowing.








Plowed, piled and pushing
Snow bank overtakes the fence
Which again gives way.

Forest is silent--
Rough branches muted in white;
My feet crunch on road.

I stop--there's no sound
Just the ringing in my ear
Echoing silence.

Old bird's nest is crowned;
Soft white where the babies were.
Snow plow rattles near.












Now the old phone book
Wears a hat in its tree crotch.
(Its winter fashion).

Sun Has Partnered With Clouds

Humming from above;
Transformer box keeps working
Despite ice below.

Shadows are subdued;
Sun has partnered with the clouds
To cast just pale forms.

Many times I walk
I think it will be the same.
Many times I'm wrong.

Snow banks are frozen;
Seems like ice is forever.
Still, the stream burbles.

Smoke in the chimney;
Still the house sign says "For Rent";
Who is keeping warm?






Football on the snow
Lies next to the snow filled swing.
Lone bird is chirping.









A flurry of buds
Dot the long slender branches;
Snow drift is frozen.

Bright sheen on the snow
Reflects the gray sky above--
A shine without joy.

Gray snow from the road
Rises to meet the white snow--
A lapping of waves.










A small straggly fir
Bows down to the dirty snow.
Will it see the Spring?

The large frozen turd
Lies by the side of the road.
Relieved creature gone.

Shadows Fall Gently

Shadowed snowy path;
The cow looks out from the barn;
Dumb Basset Hound howls.

Shadows on the roof
Curve and twist with the tree shapes.
Birds flit between them.










Goats keep on eating;
Reducing the Christmas trees.
Everything takes time.












Old nest blows in wind;
Pieces flutter high above
From the unused home.



Two deer on the road
Stop, look around and then leave.
Were they ever there?

Snow banks are frozen;
Dark grit stuck in the roadside,
Part of the sculpture.

Shadows fall gently
Curving softly on the snowbank--
A still, languid dance.

Frozen in the snow
Paw prints from some time ago
Passing into woods.

Slow tapping somewhere--
A desultory woodpecker
Hammers for his food.







Translucent, shining:
Ice on the face of the rock;
Liquid, clear and still.












Shadows of the pine
Descend in gentle clusters
On the snow's palette.

Play of Sun, Wind, Clouds

Thick white flakes scurry,
Scattered by the icy wind
To the frozen pond.

Three goats are eating,
Munching on old Christmas trees--
A post Yuletide treat



Sun breaks over snow
Cutting through the thick gray clouds--
Temporary sheen.

Old pick up struck stops;
Young man with beard leans out;
We both love the cold.













Wrapped around the branch
The dead brown leaf still holds on;
Waiting for Spring breeze?

Now flakes are floating,
But in the woods the wind growls;
Soon it will pounce here.

Unseen hoarse whispers--
Wind converses with itself
Deep in the forest.

Sun streaks on the road--
Instant patches of glisten
That you step into.

Forsythia bush
Now bare branches with ice drops;
But there are the buds.

Grayness then brightness;
Rush of light then bowing trees--
Play of sun, wind, clouds.

Gray Clouds Hang

Path is slippery;
Slate glistens in the gray light.
Kids squeal from pre school.












Snow path to the fence;
Soft white leads to the brown boards.
(One will disappear).

The sun is hiding;
Gray clouds hang and hammers sound.
Snow is not white.

Wind across the road
Blasts cold, loud and insistent,
Then it vanishes.

Footballs in the snow
Lie still, facing each other
Waiting for first down.

Colors are muted,
The yellow school sign is drab.
Winter gray descends.

Somewhere something thuds--
Wind in the abandoned house
Or an open door.

Fallen young pine tree
Blown down by the rough wind
Holds on to the rock.










Milkweed in winter:
Brown husks against dirty snow.
Their seeds have long flown.

Twisted Phantoms of the Trees

Shadows in the snow,
Twisted phantoms of the trees
Stretch out flat and dark.







Below the sharp shadows
The dark stream is almost still;
A blackened mirror.

Tucked in the snow bank
Small patches of darkness
Form alternate world.










In the darkened woods
Sunlight pools mock the shadows;
(Or vice versa).











Two sentry shadows
Guard the snowbanks, soldier-straight;
Orders from the sun.











Leaf stuck in snow bank;
Old nest stuck in the brambles.
Both are history.









Shadows of the fir;
Softer than their source needles
Stretch upon the snow.

Red against green;
Trees complement each other.
Seasonal colors.










In their own bare spot
Old brown mushrooms still hold court;
A wise choice of space.

A Fog of Thick Flakes

A fog of thick flakes
Swirls and floats through the gray sky;
Somewhere the wind blows.

Snow plow climbs the hill;
It's as silent as the snow;
Above, a plane hums.

Sun breaks through the clouds,
But snow flakes cast no shadows;
Gray and white return.












Big flakes rush towards me;
Some of them land on my tongue.
Fleeting taste of snow.

Last night was windy;
Dead limbs lie scattered on snow
Among the shadows.














The air is clear now--
Just a few large fleeting flakes;
Lull in the flurry.

Sun breaks through the pines
Casting shadows on the snow
And champagne bottle.







Scattered by the road--
Old sagging cardboard boxes;
Will they disappear?

Slender, soft, light brown,
Willowy tree topped with buds--
The promise of Spring.

Girding Winter Loins

Snow is in the air;
Barn doors are dark and empty;
Somewhere a dog barks.








Gray snow clouds hang low;
Two pickup trucks pass slowly;
Ice islands in stream.












A mass of branches
Silhouette against the sky--
Spider black on gray.


From the plowed snow bank
Delicate branches protrude
Grabbing at the air.

Intricate brambles
Framed sharply against the snow
Bear small red berries.

Tiny tufts of white
Float silently through the air;
Bird chirps gratingly.

Abandoned house door
Opened wide to the darkness
Welcoming the snow.












Little white patches
Form in crotches of the trees--
Girding winter loins.