heron on the wing
an echo of the morning mist
rising and disappearing
Dispersing
Echo
the dark and light
of clouds and sky
how like life
passing by
The Shooting Stars Obscured
but oh the midnight moon
an echo of the sun
throwing rings of gold
Reiteration
amongst astilbe plumes
echo
bee balm blooms
Brass Echo
early turning
some azalea leaves browning
the watering can echos below
Shadow And Light
in their differences
how they amplify and echo
each other
Blues
tiny blooms
grace the ground
an echo of the sky
Moving Towards Spring
a single drop
circles echo
in sunlight
Seen And Seen Again
birch in the sun
are echoed as
icicles in shade
Resounding
when the tall tall pine
holds onto snow
I see the echo of every Christmas
Resonance
the iris
an echo
of poppy’s orange
Systematic Work
the knocking
still echos
from the ground
Every Voice Raised
the chickadees
are caroling
the echos of rejoicing
A Complexity Of Symmetry
the center
echos the edges
Ricochet Of Loveliness
the sky echos
the garden’s bloom
At The Edge
listening
to the purple
echos
How Many Sounds Can You Hear All At Once?
lavender echo
the marsh
whispers color
Resonance
in the echo
your song
is sung anew
Echo
all the departures of fall
echo all the departures in life
a practice of fond farewells
Released
in the echo
of his cry
every tear is dried
The Sky’s Timbre
autumn’s leaves are echoed
in an orange morning sky
Heard Thoughts
woods echo
the bluejay’s thoughts
answering unasked questions
Echo of Wings
dragonflies
frozen in flight
the sound of the chime
hollowed by cold
Wild Bloom
a shout of color
fades to an echo
brevity of beauty
Echo
subtle hydrangea
softly echos
the colors of fall
Birdhouse
It is time to wing to the South.
Your house holds the echo of your song,
and awaits your return in the spring.