Sleeping Garden

Down in the field the garden bed sleeps
dreaming of rain, flowers and food
and knowledgeable hands that coax and groom.


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

Cone Flowers

Gone are the purple petal skirts and crowns of gold
but your beauty and grace remain
and will be scattered by the wind.

Sunday Mountain

The Great Spirit resides here, peacefully presiding over us.
The wind still holds the echos of the Abenaki’s footsteps.
The soil cradles our carefully tended dreams.


Until the crops have given their full yield
you may rest in the high weeds with the moon flower.
When it is time to till again you will carry the full weight of a man and his dreams.

Lavender Glooming

When the afternoon melts into dusk and evening is on the rise
new dreams are born in shadows and cloud forms
as old dreams disperse with the day.