Haute Couture


This birch wears it’s bark like a Dior dress,
sublime are it’s structure and details.

Visitors


Morning light reveals
hooves crossing the bridge from the forest into the yard
during the quiet of the night.

Reading Signs


Pampas grass flags
document the speed and direction of the  wind.

Nest


Winter laid an egg of snow
for March to roost upon
we’ll count the days until the hatch
of finely feathered spring.

Before the Storm


the sky gathers greyness and weight
and pushes itself upon us blanketing us with
anticipation in the stillness and the stirring smell of approaching snow.

Hydrangea


As you hover on the edge of Spring,
your youthful summer color is long departed
and in its stead stands the eloquence of aging with grace.

Wide Sky


The southern wind announces Spring is on her way to us.
These clouds are ruffles on her petticoats.

Mountains beyond Mountains


You may recognize the mountain by name or shape
but to truly know her is to walk the contours of her mass,
to watch her reveal the secrets of the seasons,
to remember and to feel the spirits of all the other feet
who have touched her and whose hearts have found home.

Frozen Memory


I dreamed of the marsh in winter
and saw tawny wheat growing in sand as soft as a cloud.

Sugaring


First the sap runs, then drum drum drums
drop by drop into the buckets.
Soon to be simmered, then rolling boiled into maple syrup.
Oh that sweet sweet nectar of the mountain.

Stand of Birch


Their feet close together
the birch stand shoulder to shoulder
weathering all seasons.

Sunbeam


Illumination comes from above
lighting that which lies within.

Tundra

This winter’s frozen landscape
turns the familiar field into an alien surface
the dark side of the moon.

Delicate


Queen Anne’s tiny petals are a memory
but her fragile beauty remains
lingering in the empty space.


Tree Bones


Weathered by the seasons
bleached by the sun
the bones of the tree remain.

Couples


Two by two
it’s best when your partner
doesn’t look exactly like you.

Grey


The February forest offers
ten thousand shades of grey,
haven for the mourning dove.

Black Bird


Singing in the tree tops
perched higher than your high note
morning is your muse.

Ridge


Just over the ridge
reside my dreams of Spring.
Leafy trees and blooming things;
the sun’s warm embrace,  kisses on my face.