Portrait of a Winter Day
In the stillness
Before the first flake falls
the dried wild flower
shares a flurry of beauty.
for monarchs’ sake.
Old Man Frost
leaves his whiskers behind
when he runs through the woods
chasing moonbeams and sunshine.
Like the grain in wood
the grain of decay in the fern frond
tells the exquisite story of its life.
the garden’s secret keeper.
Our Two Chairs
Let us take our willow seats
and savor a few more garden moments with the geraniums
before the the frost comes and sends us all inside.
September’s astonishing blue sky is for you.
Delicate lichen blossoms on stone are for you.
All of nature’s beauty awaits you.
At the edge of the forest
where enchantment begins
grows a tiny tree of goldenrod.
seed masquerades as fruit
a wily plant’s propagation plan.
Solace can often be found
in the space between.
oh to be a bud in the cluster
a part of a tribe
together in the center of life’s circle.
There is no room for worry
amidst all the color and beauty.
Come and stay awhile.
This plant wears its pigtails
in fancy french braids
The brightest colors
are put on display
when royalty visits.
As the workers toil in the carpet of sage
they hum and buzz their dictum
“from each according to their abilities, to each according to their needs”
A spiral staircase from the forest floor
like an Escher leading everywhere and nowhere
all at once.
in a tangle of winter’s residue.