You Can (But You Can’t) Fence Me In

the dandelions corralled
but their wishes
cannot be contained

Spring Fling

the rock garden
a riot of color
bursting into bloom

The Truth Of Scale

the proportion between
bird box and forest trees
makes me right sized

Vicarious Warmth

far off
in the distance
four fields bathe in the sun

Directions Home

at the fence end
the birdhouse’s front yard
a round of iris pods

Parallel Purposes

stretched across the landscape
train tracks and phone lines
corn rows and pasture fences

Holding Whatever Is Offered

the pasture
empty of cows
filling with snow

A Question Worth Asking

will they take our coats
and turn them into socks and sweaters
for themselves

Too Soon To Say Goodbye

like summer
we linger
by the fencepost

Frog On The Toadstool

I’ll do
what I want
is his only thought

Summer’s Best Friend

take shelter
in the sweet shade
of the dear old tree

Everything Rises

as morning sidles
to the edge of the garden
the gingko bows to the day

We Gather In The Meadow

chairs circled
we worship in
the valley’s benevolence

In April

in earthen beds
beneath another snow
seeds shake off their sleeping caps