sniffing the air
perched on the birch stump
surprise visit from a fin-footed friend
A River Seal Revealed
This Season’s Thinness
a winter lean of snow
the ribs of old corn rows
still visible
Solidarity
secrets shared
between
rocks and ice
Holding Place Until The Lamps Are Lighted
an insistence
of light within
the gathering grey
The Buddha Sits
neither chasing
nor evading
what is
Come Home Soon
watching for the neighbor’s light
their curl of chimney smoke
to feel so not alone
February’s Gate
ready to swing wide open
for any and all
kinds of kindness and love
Woodland Expression
shadows and the softness
given by distance
deliver an abstracted woods
Altitude Of Blue
the sky sharing
some of her repertoire
illustrating infinity
Through The Window
the view
enhances my outlook
on all the comforts of inside
Moss And Snow
seeming strange bedfellows
yet nestled sweetly together
companions during winter’s long sleep
The Sky Sighs Snow
quiet
falls down and piles up
manifesting the white depth of solitude
Just Two
all that is needed
that other one
to inhabit the world with
Resounding
when the tall tall pine
holds onto snow
I see the echo of every Christmas
Flow
I long
to take life’s curves
as gracefully as the winter brook
Sneaking By
there below the terrace
the elusive metal heron
keeping thoughts of summer alive
Everlasting Ever Changing Unions
stone, water, branch
fallen and frozen, rushing and static
married this winter day
Sensing What Is Beyond Sight
like Mabel
the woods call to me too
beckoning with mysteries and solace
What The Lantern Occasioned
a light
without light
is how memory is made
Run Off
snow melt heads
back to to the aquifer
water always finds its way
Vacillating Temperatures
winter wavers warm and cold
mimicking the wobble
of the old garden fence
This Tree
still waving goodbye
to the trains
that no longer cross the trestle
The Road Home
etched in memory
our tracks in the snow
the hug of each curve
The Form Of Emptiness
first there was something
that is now
gone
The Day’s Philanthropy
a generous sunset
giving the colors
of a rainbow
Never An Admission Fee
there could be
no better museum
than a tree
Secrets Of The Feathered Fellowship
on gray days
being in community
creates its own kind of sunlight
Mop Of Cold
bent to the river by cold
held to new work by ice
servitude of sweeping
Skillful Play
they know to slow and cross single file
then resume full tilt running
on the other side
The Season’s Fashion
the myriad ways
winter wears white
in snow and ice, birch and cloud