Bubbles of Word Sound

It's George's birthday;

We don't celebrate it now,

But some remember.

It's sunny and warm;

Thermometer says eighty.

(It's in the sunshine.)

Sky is crystal blue;

Shadows dapple my side lawn;

Birds fly back and forth.

Rooster keeps calling.

Is he shouting at the sun

Or is he chilling?

Measuring the light

Tree stump becomes sun dial

With its long shadows.

Devoid of people:

Small patches in the forest

As wild as Eden.

A forest of green

Grows in its own universe

On a rotting log.

Two voices floating

Next to the newly built house--

Bubbles of word sound.

 

Full and Flowering

 Bluejay bobs and gulps

And checks out his surroundings;

(It's so exhausting.)

Rhododendron bloom?

On this February morn?

Topsy turvy world.

Collette comes over;

She just wants to say hello

Every chance she gets.

The ice is melting

Again! The ice is melting;

Winter keeps coming.

A still frozen stream

Flows unmoving down the rocks

Beyond the wood fence.

White's fled from the woods

Leaving countless shades of brown

And a touch of green.

Melting into earth

Old tree stump covered with grass

Playing hide and seek.

Long round mound of earth

Marks where an old house had been;

Foundations beneath.

February moon
Shines through the trees on my hill,
Full and flowering.

Two Skins of Wiinter

Woodpecker and squirrel

Share the boisterous breakfast feast--

Then they are gone.

Puff tail behind ears

Squirrel will eat all of the corn

(If he is able.)

Pine cone has fallen

In the forsythia bush;

Takes up residence.

Sun and shadows fall

On the bright ice and water.

Woodpecker rattles.

Two new tree stumps stand,

A cut-down companionship

Standing side by side.

Ice and reflections

Cover the dark stream water:

Two skins of winter.

A pastoral scene

Long painted on an oil truck;

Now it rolls away.

Hiding in the bush

Chickadee blends with branches.

(Is he really there?)

Promising Hearth Warmth

02/15/2016

Single digit day;

Sun is waiting for the snow;

Hiding its bright face.

All ways brown, black, white:

Snow, birds and empty branches--

Cold winter sparseness.

Scattered puffs of white

Tease the landscape with promise

Of much more to come.

Blasted Pampas grass

Rests against the wooden fence.

It seems so weary.

Gray ice is winning--

Stream's covered with a new skin.

Wait! Sound of tinkling!

Sun peeks through the clouds;

There are more layers beneath.

No shadows today.

Zombie evergreen;

Most of the needles are brown.

Still, there some green.

Gray wood smoke rises

From the new built wooden house

Promising hearth warmth.

02/17/2016

Greedy hungry squirrel

Gobbles up each grain of corn;

Then, even he's full.

A blue jay couple

Joins the morning breakfast feast--

So big, so skittish.

On his high crow perch

Black bird surveys surroundings--

A real bird's eye view.

Across the sparse field

Small silhouette in the tree:

Another crow perch.

Water becomes ice;

Driveways become skating rinks

(With no one skating.)

Up the dark driveway;

Nestled in the deep shadows--

A small glowing light.

Contentious always,

Two crows argue in the sky.

(They never whisper)

Once it housed a horse;

Now it's a garden of stones--

No snorts--no whinnies.