Between Two High Wires

Pressed against window

Plant is trying to come in.

(A fear of winter?)

The light is harsher;

Soft rays of summer have gone;

Starkness of winter.

In the middle of brown

Golden bush blooms on my lawn

Forgetting seasons.

Soft clucking of hens;

Deep rolling trolls of the goats;

Morning barnyard sounds.

Old, gray and sagging

Out building has lived too long.

Still, it stays standing.

Old barren stream bed

Carries dead leaves and sunlight

And dreams of water.

Between two high wires

Last night's moon, shining faintly

Sheds a blue gray light.

I take just one step

And move from the bright sunshine

Into peaceful shade.

Goodbye Queen Anne's Lace

Beige bird in a bush

Tries to be invisible;

(And nearly succeeds)

Tail twitching gray squirrel

Sitting under the brown bush

Drawing attention.

The moss on my lawn

Is overtaking the grass--

Green revolution.

Skeletal husks wave
In the gentle morning breeze--
Goodbye Queen Anne's Lace.

From under dead leaves

Sprouts of fresh green grass spring up

To meet the morning.

Two broken branches

Slide slowly into the earth

Covered by green moss.

Framed by empty swings

Susan sweeps leaves from her lawn.

(Always morning chores).

A cry from the woods--

A cracking tree in the wind.

(Or was it a child?)

Shadow or a Branch?

Shadow or a branch?

Neither branch nor a shadow;

A trick of the eye.

Branches wave and nod

In the silent world outside;

Window blocks all sound.

The two bovine friends

Touch base with some cow snuggles

While chewing their cuds.

Yesterday's rainfall

Has left a mini swamp land

This sunny morning.

Luminescent leaves

And the swiftly flowing stream--

Morning sights and sounds.

Mushroom family sits

On the hospitable tree,

Nibbled by creatures.

Path into the woods

Dappled in the morning light,

Muted, beige and bright.

Barren stream bed flows

With dead leaves but not water--

Seasonal changes.

Add New Dimension

Shedding dark blue light

Full moon in Taurus glowing

Through ghostly branches.

Bird pecks frantically

At a leafless, bare tree limb.

(What is his secret?)

Seventy degrees!

In the middle of November.

Will snow ever come?

Now the tree is empty;

Leaves have fled all its branches.

Crows cry in the sky.

Dead leaves on the stream

Disrupt the mirror water;

Add new dimension.

Far down the road
Couple seems to be walking;
(Or are they riding?)

Hospitable rock

Has welcomed dead leaves and twigs

To rest upon it.

Behind the brown leaves

A fresh green sapling rises

To meet the winter.

Whirring of buzz saw;

Distant boom of a rifle--

Cut through the silence.

Stepping Stones of Light

 Trembling in the sun

The last leaves resist the wind--

Tender vibrations.

Through a gauze of light,
Sisters defy gravity--
Sky is the limit.

Coffee roaster whirs;

Purifier in next room;

Surrounded by sounds.

He's part of the barn--

Horse, standing in the sunshine,

Still as a statue.

In the bright morning

Leaves embrace light of the sun,

Become translucent.

Flanking the entrance

Two pampas plants at the gate:

Sentinels stand guard.

Shadows round the bend

Arc gracefully on the road--

Stepping stones of light.

Beyond the darkened trees

A glimpse of flashing sunlight.

And beyond that, what?

Women beyond me

Chattering as they're walking.

(I let them pass by.)