wick of grass
houses
the sun
Candle In The Wind
Still Sweet
Maine’s blueberry sky
not yet
bittered by cold
Inconspicuousness
ordinary leaf
bland rock
that hops
Another Kind Of Warmth
a beam
of daffodil sunshine
graces the hillside
Stillness Inside The Current
rock beneath the waterfall
witness to every nuance in the weather
barometer of time
If The Liminal Could Be Seen
palisades shrouded in mist
its sacredness seeps into my bones
and I stand in reverence
In Exchange
color leaving leaves
to redden berries and set the seeds
the bargain that autumn demands
Building Blocks
one lone piece
of our river valley
mountains and palisades
Roots, Rock, Fungi
endurance
is a game
of adaptation
Asylum
some of the color
that has left the woods
finds refuge on the island
Summer Spot
from the heat of the rock
into the cool depths of the lake
JUMP
Buddha In The Woods
I visit
to share
the silence
How Can It Be
the tree
I’ve only seen from afar
can feel like home
A Home
in the protection of decay
the more humble
the more precious
Color Lifts Us Up
long grey day
and then a saving
flash of blue
Painted By The Light And Seasons
the humble rock
becomes
a work of art
Evidence
bright green moss
under snow
yes hope springs eternal
The Solid Sea
I peered
into an ocean
made of granite
Cascade
the rock and the water
fallen and falling
counterpart and counterpoint
The Abandoned Ball
No, you’re bigger
you
should’ve swum out for it.
The Space Between
we remain
a part of each other
even in separation
Flowering Rock
of pastel pink
a granite bloom
Flowing Rock
is made of
change
Dress Up Just For Yourself
adorned with
lichen lace ruffle
Waltz In The Woods
shadow dance
on the rock face
Atop The Rock
while together
with everything
David Hockney’s Water
in the small brook
his paint brush paints
Making Music
dance
to the fiddlehead’s tune
Resurrection
spring
is born again
They Stand In Solidarity
the tree trunk curtseys
to the power and durability
of rock and stone
