stalled by a cold snap
the red rake
by the arbor waits
Beauty Berry
as the landscape mutes
and colors recede
one last glory
Expectation
across the winter muted terrain
dogwood grew a net of color
with hopes of catching spring
Bee’s Favorite
pink hostess to
the thrum and buzz
of sweetness in the making
Chorus
the hedgerow sings
late winter’s song
on whispering leaves