A Tree Converses

A tree converses in a quiet way, tossing branches, arching in the spring. It greens it’s welcome, verdant home away for birds who’ve traveled, longingly on wing. – I tree in summer wears its glory light richly pleased at how it lines the cloud it stands attention, cooly tempers bright with shady silence, helpful and […]

New Life

That tree, leafing green dead, gray, ungrown just last fall, chirps forth in new song. – – – Photo by Alexey Demidov: https://www.pexels.com

Expectation

The fall of the leaves never is the end, whatever sorrow mingles with the wind like tears, however the touch of winter’s icy fingers shock and still with the chill of death that lingers on like years. For vows inscribed on circuits of the earth cannot be broken on their way through dearth and drear. […]

That Man

That man with the black umbrella swishes through the rain. Puddles swirl reflections as he stalks away. – – Photo by Atharva Tulsi on Unsplash

Showdown

Eyes slant. Sun flares bright. Dust ghosts swirl between. He squints across where his opponent stands. Appraises. Time. ticks. slow. All around watchers holding breath in tight lipped silence. Tilts hat down. Readies feet. Waits his beat. Fired like crackle flame flying from the hand marked, slight change rise connecting– snapped with metal ring And […]

Spring Cold

Life blows blurry bleary and a fog, ripped dripping fliffing on a hot cup tea held, coughing in my words and sniffling scratchy in my throat like blanket wrapped all ‘round shoulders as, clearing throat, shiver in the summer weather. – I hate colds. – – – Photo by Lisa Hobbs on Unsplash

Surprised

Still expecting winter, I found a violet in the moss.

Springtime Haiku

Each day unfolds more leaves squinting in the sunshine welcome, newborn life!

Rain

The drizzling raindrops seem to say that all the things we love will not dissolve in sorrow. – That when the master made the watch he wound it tight…and stayed, refreshing each tomorrow.

Frog

I wonder if that frog thinks the world is just a fevered dream inside his pond… – or does his mirror reflect, in green- translucent shine, the way creation always meant to be?