Profusion


More beauty than the eye can hold,
enough to lift the soul.

Forsythia

Before the sky is reliably blue
before the fields have greened
forsythia champions Spring.

Dormant


Four fallow fields full of snow
hold their place on the mountain side
patiently waiting for Spring to arrive.

Solitude


Alone in the fields
contemplation holds my hand.
Reverence is my path.

Family Farm

The fields empty at dusk.
The kitchen fills with the sound of hungry forks
and the quiet of resting work boots.

Dear John Deer

In August, with your metal seat as hot as a branding iron,
you rumble across the fields, chewing rocks and cutting grass.
True champion of summer.