Winter Tug of War

 Tree limbs sway gently; 

Bird on porch pecks anxiously;

Gray sky speaks of snow.

Bird swoops gracefully

At the corner of my eye;

No birds in feeder.

Waiting to fly forth

Birds gather in the bushes;

Know I will soon leave.

Barking in the car,

Little dog wants to get out

And be somewhere else.

Barely shining through

Sun tries to break out of clouds:

Winter tug of war.

Over the roof tops

Thick gray snow clouds are waiting

For just their right cue.

White topped sharp thistles

Seem friendlier in the snow--

Bend down gracefully.

At top of the trees:

Leaves still waiting for the wind--

Their fellows have gone.

His Ass Must Be Cold

His ass must be cold:

Blue-jay sitting on ice mound.

(Doesn't seem to mind.)

Bright sun, bitter cold;

Outside looks so inviting;

Birds back at feeder.

Lady cardinal sits

By side of the chickadee;

Birds of a feather?

A forest of tracks

Lie just outside my front door;

Birds and beasts alike.

Three snow filled chairs sit

Next to the icy white swing

Waiting for the Spring.

All is frosted now

But the black mirrored stream flows

Untouched by freezing.

White puff ball flowers

Have turned to brown long ago;

White snow reminds them.

High above ladders

A man chips ice from the roof.

(Better stay inside).

Shadows on the hill

Falling up the mountainside

Further than the trees.

In This Blank Silence

World is white today,

A veil of snow descending

In soft defined clumps.

Street's silent and white; 

No rumble of the snow plows;

Just the falling flakes.

Two white horns peek out;

Olivia at barn door

Staring from darkness.

Standing rigidly

Fence posts marshall their white caps--

Winter mustering.

Snow is subsiding

And I am left with longing

For that which has been.

Far in the distance

A couple walks down the road.

(Their tracks are still here.)

Thoughts of my Charlotte

As I walk in solitude

In this blank silence.

Sounds of an airplane

High and unseen in the gray

Fills the white silence.

 

Delicate Falling

 

 Why is the sky gray

When the snow it calls is white?

Winter mystery.

Evergreens stick out

In the mass of brown and gray.

Sky is colorless.

Green leaves still flower

On this bush whose white flowers

Will return in Spring.

I baaaa at the goat;

He baaaa's back and so do I.

(Our conversation.)

This veil of sawdust

Has lain for many months now;

Echoing the tree.

Nestled like a child

In the crotch of three dead trees--

Gathering of leaves.

Delicate falling,

The first snow flakes of winter

Whisper their descent.

Peeking over hill--

New black and white cat plant

Watches me watch it.

This Deserted House

Colder day by day'

I leave later day by day. 

(Always something new.)

Bird feeder's ready

But still there are no birds there.

(They disappoint me)

What are they thinking,

These two cows standing so still?

(Or are they thinking?)

Robin on fence post

Surveys the field before him--

King of the mountain.

Unclaimed papers lie

As they have for many days.

(A new one today?)

Upside down white chair;

Empty windows and no cars:

This deserted house.

Dots on the mountain--

Random garbage thrown away--

Out of sight, out of.......

Bare tall tree creaking

Every time I walk past it;

(We're all getting old).

First fine skin of ice

Appears on the mud puddle;

No sound; no fury.