There Was a Complaint

 

 

Creeping down the mountain
Sunlight takes over the fields.
I cannot stop it.

Parallel wood posts
Guard the entrance to my porch;
Can't keep out the sun.

 

Humming electric
Transformer box sings its song.
(It's a boring tune).

Lori and the kids;
Two dogs and approaching bus;
Just morning mayhem.

 

In this shining pond
There was only ice last time.
Flick of memory.

 

Tiny green leaves spring
Silently from the bushes
Welcoming the sun.

There was a complaint--
Now the ancient tree must go;
Cut down in the Spring.

Once a giant tree
Reduced now to a fat stump
Melting in the ground.

 

Waiting for Answers

03/17.2012

Walking with Premda
On a cloudy Spring morning;
Sun is barely out.

Four balls on the lawn.
How many more can there be
With no one playing?

Crows in the cool sky
Make the whole sky seem empty
Save for the loud caws.

03/18/2012

  

Light gray misty morn;
Flower pot looks much whiter
In fog radiance.

 

 Fog falls on the trees,
A gray softness descending.
Forsythia buds.

A glow on the road;
A faint promise of sunshine;
Soft shadows appear.

Another new bird
Calls from high on the tree top
Waiting for answers.

Ladder in the woods;
Someone was climbing to somewhere.
(Is that metaphor?)

 

Only the Sun Knows

 

Dull sheen in the air;
Sun not breaking through the clouds;
How cold is it out?

 

Suddenly shadows
Fall softly across the road.;
Now the sun is here.

 

Hanging from a tree
An old silver milk bucket
Waiting for a tit.

Another winter-
The steel fence still is helpless
Against gentle snow.

 

Like a stage curtain
Clouds lift and the sun rises
On a bright new scene.

Other side of fence--
Large ball waits expectantly.
No one is playing.

 

 Shadow of a tree
Or just a play of the light?
Only the sun knows.

Why is it shorter:
The journey on the way back?
Is the road shrinking?

Lucy Looks to Left

Ahead, behind me
I look forward at mirror;
Forward is backward

 

 Lucy looks to left
Staring at other mirror.
(It's just a picture).

Warm breeze filled morning;
Snow is fleeing from the field.
(Where is it going?)

 Near the roaring stream
A fat squirrel leaps from tree;
Quickly disappears.

Loudly the wind blows,
Echoing with the crow cries
And bowing the trees. 

Puddles in the woods;
Is this non winter over?
What season is it?

The familiar bend
Always turns to mystery
Until I get there.

 Now the road side stream
Released from its winter ice
Begins to flow again.

 

How I Miss You Now

Dripping icicles--

Bright play of sun and snow shine;

Inside, all subdued.

A morning stillness;

The drips outside are silent

In my quiet house.

Now it feels like Spring;

Alfred's just chewing his cud

Lying on in the sun.

High pitched dissonance--

Chorus of wild geese flying

Bisecting heaven.

A new bird's whistle;

It's not been here this winter;

It sings of the spring.

On this day, Mama,

You were born into this world.

How I miss you now.

My old stump buddies

Have shed their winter snow coats

Ready for Spring.

The tiny tree stumps

Don't seem to know they're dead--

Stand upright (not tall).

Then the Road is Mine

Dancing in silence
Pine boughs outside my window--
The shadows are still.

 

  
A faint rooster's crow
Over the white fields beyond.
The sky is bright blue.

Snow ball in the sun,

Secure in the icy cold;

Wind blows up the road. 

Sparkling water,
Refuses to be frozen--
A good example.

Wind blows past my ear;
Sun is blinding on the snow;

Yet everything's still.

 

  

On the frozen snow
Shadows lie across the dunes
As if always there.

Puffs of gray brown smoke
Emerge in wake of passing car;
Then the road is mine.

It's always warmer
On the walk back to my house.
(Is that metaphor?)

Like Soft Kettle Drums

Dripping from the eaves,
Melting of last night's snow fall.
What a strange winter.

Twisted white branches
Reach out from the gnarled tree;
Thick clumps of snow fall.

Geese slide to the pond;
Crows chatter in mottled sky;
Field is white again.

 

Shadows on the snow;
Sun is out, trees are raining;
Drop fell on my head.

 

 Blue sky advances,
Pushing back the wispy clouds;
Snow clumps thunder down.

White falling on white;
Trees release their clumps of snow
Like soft kettle drums.



Soft mist on the road
Veils everything behind it.
Then, poof! It's gone.

The mist is silent;
Shadows don't even whisper;
Why are my shoes loud?

Coyote's howling,
Counterpoint to rooster's crow;
Thick spicy barn smell.