Clouds gather in formation
ascending towards the heavens
marching across the sky
as pines stand sentry to their parade.

Budding Out

In a burst of energy, renewal and hope colors are released
as trees transform the landscape from winter to spring.


The back porch stairs
lead to the whole
of the wild woods and world.


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


The pines keep watch
over the residents perpetual sleep
whispering peace, peace.


At the edge of the apple grove the spring comes above ground
and wanders across the meadow laughing in delight at the change of season.


A miniature forest in a miniscule landscape,
the majesty of moss.

In Town

When you get to the fancy white fence
that’s how you’ll know your at Main Street.

Half and Half

Two trees at the entrance to the woods
mark the dividing line between sun and shade.

Golden Willow

In the midst of winter,
the willow shines its golden light.
This is where the fairies dance at night.

Frozen Wetland

Cold paints a picture in tans and greys and white.
Wind is the painter’s muse.

Before the Storm

the sky gathers greyness and weight
and pushes itself upon us blanketing us with
anticipation in the stillness and the stirring smell of approaching snow.

Wide Sky

The southern wind announces Spring is on her way to us.
These clouds are ruffles on her petticoats.

Mountains beyond Mountains

You may recognize the mountain by name or shape
but to truly know her is to walk the contours of her mass,
to watch her reveal the secrets of the seasons,
to remember and to feel the spirits of all the other feet
who have touched her and whose hearts have found home.

Frozen Memory

I dreamed of the marsh in winter
and saw tawny wheat growing in sand as soft as a cloud.


First the sap runs, then drum drum drums
drop by drop into the buckets.
Soon to be simmered, then rolling boiled into maple syrup.
Oh that sweet sweet nectar of the mountain.

Stand of Birch

Their feet close together
the birch stand shoulder to shoulder
weathering all seasons.


This winter’s frozen landscape
turns the familiar field into an alien surface
the dark side of the moon.


Just over the ridge
reside my dreams of Spring.
Leafy trees and blooming things;
the sun’s warm embrace,  kisses on my face.


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

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