an icing
of snowflakes
time suspended
The Snow Abstracted
Bells Ring Out
reverberations
announce each
hour
Like Buttercups
yellow blossoms
adorning the path
blessing us with color
How The Spirit Leans
the young tree’s shadow
rests upon its near elder
receiving sacred reassurance
Shared Knowledge
the stream and sky
converse about
the fluid endurance of existence
Woodland Rumpelstiltskin
the light
busy spinning
scrub brush into gold
Sheltered
no snow
beneath
the canopy
A Single Digit Of Warmth
the morning moon
in a tender sky
despite the bitter cold
Cascade
waterfall of time
this year’s leaves
descending mossy granite
Painter’s Light
often mistaken for ordinary
the masterpiece of
here and now
Seed Clouds
chugging by
like steam
from a train
A Cold Quiet Descends
the marsh
enveloped in
stillness and shadow
The Red Maple
late color
the last ruby smile
of autumn
In These Shorter Days
shadows dark as night
the brook thick with cold
winter taking hold
May It Be Every Day
we journey
towards each other
open hearted
End Of The Rainbow
colors gathered
on the ripples
in the light
Light And Water Falls
in the presence
of transience’s beauty
peace flows
Field Of Dreams
the many many seeds
now gone to bed
to dream and conjure up our spring
Rest
the season asks
for slowing down
let stillness be a pastime found
Witnessed By Barn Windows
in the meadow
tide lines
of seeds
Berries Brown And Red
decorating
the landscape
feeding the birds
November Gifts
even as winter’s grey descends
whoops of color
and a glittering flutter
Homecoming
every thing
on its way
to becoming one
Clouds Like The Day’s Breath
in November’s dark
the light is brighter
and the blues colder
In Nothing Everything
the wind stopped
and the whole world stilled
a settling of collective rest
To Leave Is To Return
in the season
of seeds
everything is giving
Old Friend
you and I
on creaky knees
still enjoying a wander
Companion For Winter
most leaves now down
their absence
brings the mountain closer
Fields At Rest
fortitude
is being built
in the fallow field
Spotted
freedom on the wing
liberty perched
high in the pine