They're No Longer Buds

Forsythia now;
Petals strewn about the walk.
Bugs tickle my eyes.












They're no longer buds;
They are bursting baby leaves
Urged on by the sun.









Shadows, like the sun,
Fall gently on the soft lawns,
Make not a ripple.

The streams are muted;
Lone clover pops up its head.
Spring comes with hushed sounds.









Christmas ornament
Shining in the April sun.
(Some things never change).










White flowers blooming
From a broken dying tree
Lie close to the ground.

A distant jet hums
Fading swiftly out of sound.
U P S puffs by.









From the dead brown leaves
Bright purple flowers pop up.
From the house, kids drum.

Buds, Buds Everywhere

Mama cow licks calf--
"Get it over with quick, Mom."
Patience yet to come.

Basset hound howling
Raises his shouts to the sky,
The still, clear, blue sky.

The shy woodpecker
Sits silently on the trunk
Then whispers away.









Buds, buds everywhere
Green and yellow and swelling;
Licked by the sunshine.









Very last snow bank
Stands next to the fenced in woods,
Mottled gray and filthy.









Hollow knock, knock, knock
Followed by gentle cooing;
Sounds of the forest.

Pale soft mullein leaves
Emerge as if from nowhere;
Were they under snow?

The stark white birch tree
Yet whiter in the bright sun,
Almost as blinding.

Now They Are Swelling

Dim, gray, cool morning;
Birds call and mist sweeps my face;
Woodpecker thrumming.

Woodpeckers' hammers
Echoes from both sides of the road.
Natives are restless.







Now they are swelling:
Yellow buds on brown branches.
Still the swing is empty.

Now the mist turns rain;
Soft patters fall on my hat--
The opening sky.

Drops fall on the pond
Pocking its glassy surface;
Calf runs with pleasure.

Kids Gallop; Kids Sing

New born kids gallop;
Calf was born three days ago.
Sunlight on moist road.









Birds are all around,
Their chirping floats in the air.
Branches have voices.

The opening buds
Spread their tiny leaves and wait;
Girl sings on the path.











A lone mound of snow
Doesn't know that it's spring time;
The sun will tell it.

Old rusty barbed wire
Tries to strangle the tree trunks.
They grow around it.









Pine is in the air
Mixing with moist forest smell;
Spring witch's brew.

A green neon light:
Lichen glowing on the tree
Absorbs the sunlight.












Clouds cover the sun
Then pass on letting it shine
Reflecting my moods.

Red eft and pink worm;
Pale cardinal in the bushes;
Green moss on the trees.

Many Shades of Green

A gray moist morning;
Bird sounds from unseen places;
Barn door hangs open.








Drops hang off branches;
Squirrel rushes across the road;
Distant rooster crows.

Neither day nor night;
Muted light and bird calls--
I walk in a dream.









The soggy forest
Soaks up the winter's melting;
Many shades of green.











Near the last snow bank
Vibrant clusters of bright green
Born under the ice.

The same old tree stump
Covered with layer of moss;
Preening or greening?

On tiny tree stump
A little lichen cap sits;
Just a spring bonnet.












Near imprisoned woods
A strange road sign is standing
Silly as the fence.

Softly spreading green,
Moss covers rocks and tree stumps--
Forests in forests.

Shadow of the hay
In the warm morning sunshine;
The breeze is gentle.

Happy woodpecker
Hammers beyond the shadows;
Birds fly back and forth.









Shoots of onion grass
Pop up along the road's side
Flavoring the spring.

At the bare lawn's edge
A volleyball sits waiting;
Shadows dance around.

Pickup trucks race by
Making up for winter's sleep;
End of solitude.









Sparkling in the woods:
Hidden patch of snow remains;
Above, loud geese honk.

Little yellow dots--
Now, flowers are closed up tight
Waiting for the sun.









Yellow morning light;
Pine needles glisten brightly;
Dogs bark stupidly.

Sunlight Through the Pines

Kids laughing, shouting;
Cow bobs its head and scratches;
Birds sing in the sun.









There is a stillness;
Even the stream is subdued;
The sunshine whispers.

One drop of water
On the forsythia's tip;
Behind it, a bud.

Fuzzy on the road--
Slow caterpillar crosses,
Casts a small shadow.










Sunlight through the pines;
A car raises clouds of dust--
Everything settles.












It came from nowhere:
Bright little yellow flower
Facing the sunset.

Man, woman and dog--
Three shadows walk ahead
And we walk behind.