round and round
the weaving
and repairs
Creation
Flow
precisely
in the present moment
grass intrinsically motivated by water
Bubbles Become Ripples
like the pooled rain
in the newly starting grass
we are both
passing through and a part of each other
March Mixer
raindrops in snow
atop the mulching leaves
entwined with the tenacity of grass
Looking Forward
a little shimmer
of summer
in the snowy sunshine
Life Stilled
movement
arrested mid-move
perfected by a blue sky
Watching The Whispering
I saw
the soft sound
of marsh grass
Lazy Days
summer rests
by the roadside
tall grass and clover
On The Cusp Of Spring
the meadow
still holding
last summer’s sun
In October The Garden Empties
the clothes line houses only pins
the raised beds abundance
long since devoured
Swishing At Flies
nose deep
in sweet grass
the tail comforts
while duty waits
Morning Dew
I can almost see time
accumulating
in the blades of grass
Iris Leaves And Columbine
even perennials know
there is no such thing
as forever
Sea Of Green
a froth of fern
meets the garden shore of grass and sunshine
wave sets of trees gather in the distance
Sneaking By
there below the terrace
the elusive metal heron
keeping thoughts of summer alive
Morning Accessorized
the overnight rain
then plummeting degrees
made for us a string of pearls
Cousin It
out in the woods
without your bowler hat or glasses
how will you find your way home?
January Thaw
a window into coexistence
the ice and mud
dried leaf and green grass
Still Green
even in winter
the grass finds
her days in the sun
Winter’s Coat
flowers and grass
pattern the meadow
the earth wears a fur of flora
Stillness
the lichen
and the leaves
find their autumnal repose
Winter’s Design
mosaic of ice
the ground’s
beauty enshrined
Sweetness
in the meadow’s expanse
like a bee
I seek intimacy with clover
The Other B’s Of The Meadow
buttercup, bachelor buttons
and barbed wire
bright, blue, biting
Time’s Turning
summer’s life seen
as a kaleidoscope
of colors
Pilgrimage To The Squirrel Bench
worship as
an acorn eaten
a devotion left
Green Chaos
each leaf and stem
and bloom
holds a precise place
Wander The Garden
the spirit restores
finding the space of place
along gracious paths
After The Rain
every blade of grass
is a tiny torch
of guiding light
Comfort
the web of life
seen and unseen
always holding us together