such grey April skies
some trees barely dare
to dream of leaves
The Daring Of Dreams
The Blue Sky Tries
still some snow
as the field softens into mud
this is the season of small beginnings
Penny For Your Thoughts
from far away
I spot you
thinking
This Season’s Thinness
a winter lean of snow
the ribs of old corn rows
still visible
Sneaking By
there below the terrace
the elusive metal heron
keeping thoughts of summer alive
How It Comes
barely noticeable at first
the white outline gathering
on every branch and blade
To Everything Its Counterpart
winter’s shadows
blue with cold
disputed by the sky
Winter’s Coat
flowers and grass
pattern the meadow
the earth wears a fur of flora
Dream Of A Memory
I call the old place
Nana answers and says
I’m waiting dinner for you dearie
Heaven’s Touch
the buttercups
glowing
like gold
Growing Season Allegory
full of peaks and valleys
riches and scarcity
and straight lines that wander
Lonely For Spring
the wind
still has no leaves
to speak with
All The Season Always
there is a veil
between winter and spring
comprised of the remains of summer and fall
Cradled In The Valleys
fog snuggles
in the mountain
sleeping like a baby
Moving Along
purpose
without haste
time is an ally
In December
the landscape slumbers
glittering leaves
the froth of dreams
The Fence And The Field
nothing stands
in between
this place and peacefulness
Cows’ Horizon
a final graze
before frost
finishes the field
Quiet Restoration
just like the mist
morning rises
on the fallow field
The Mountain Whispered Orange
this autumn
is a delicate affair
subtle in her hues
Let There Be No Waste Silage Awaits
each season
requests
particulars of labor
Field, Mountain, Sky
to share
this morning
true belonging
Captured
wishes gather
into orbs
as light holds hope
Summer Comes
a window is opened in heaven
in summer waltzes
scattering shades of blue
The Size Of Time
the herd
dwarfed by trees
nature’s hierarchy of scale
Amidst Blossoms
easy to miss
the thrum and shimmer
darting from bloom to bloom
Climb The Stairs
I’ll meet you there
we’ll dine
in field with sky
Off We Go
adding our tracks
to the worn path
alone together
Mud Season
the earth
so sodden and receptive
even wind leaves footprints
Spring’s Many Faces
last year’s corn
a stubble on the field’s
greening face