Only

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on the frozen marsh
where everything is holding its breath
sunlight is the only motion

Opening


the entrance to the marsh
calls
be part of the peacefulness

The Bird Box

In silent anticipation
the whole marsh waits for
the grace of the bluebird’s arrival.

I said


slow down a little, enjoy the scenery.
The marsh is marvelous this time of year.
But he paddled furiously on
determined to miss every enjoyment in his path.

Frozen Wetland


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

Reading Signs


Pampas grass flags
document the speed and direction of the  wind.

Frozen Memory


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