a small hole
in the cloud cover
blue breaking through
Rush
how fast
the water hurries
chasing after spring
River Art
a reflection
of the fluttering
leaves
Change
many are the beginnings
and the sheddings
that escort us into the new
Ways Of Water
still flowing
but slower
still drawing
with sunlight
The Happenstance Of Circumstance
this side so lush and green
autumn on the opposite shore
place dictates everything
Call And Respond
from leaves
to ripples
color echos
Stillness Inside The Current
rock beneath the waterfall
witness to every nuance in the weather
barometer of time
The Garden Crests
a yellow wave of color
crashes upon
the shore of fall
Dog Days
lazy boats
only the clouds
are sailing today
Rock Koi Swim
beneath the surface
orange rocks swim like koi
undulating with the current and the wind
Prayers At The Marsh
may the heron bless me with a sighting
may the mist rise and grant me clarity
may the water’s reflection give me a second chance to see
The Queen’s Heron
across the water
white feathers converse
with white flowers
Water Falls Along The Brook
pulled by
time and gravity
back to the beginning
Grumpy
harumph hunched the heron
they never make a box
big enough for me
Listening To Time
time resides in the sound
of the river current’s
constant caress of the old tree stump
Flight Of The Baby Snapping Turtle
a bird plucked you from the ground
then found you undesirable and dropped you down
some million turtle miles from the brook
to which you were returned completely unshook
At The Edge Of A New Day I Wonder
what spirits reside
in that rising mist
what will they teach today?
Instructions
keep close
keep together
keep between us
Time Reflected
a faint reflection
the memory of our summers
drifting in the red canoes
On The Edge Of Spring
in the gentle sun
lift your voice
in song
The Marsh Awakens
wind ripples the open water
geese and ducks float by
a heron contemplates a stay
Pillows Of Thought
winter dreams
mounded on rocks
dissipating into day
Moving Towards Spring
a single drop
circles echo
in sunlight
Physics At The Brook’s Edge
if time itself could be seen
this is how it would appear
stopped and moving all at once
Solidarity
secrets shared
between
rocks and ice
Everlasting Ever Changing Unions
stone, water, branch
fallen and frozen, rushing and static
married this winter day
Run Off
snow melt heads
back to to the aquifer
water always finds its way
An Artist At Work
each underwater stroke
ripples the surface
new abstractions of reflections
Mop Of Cold
bent to the river by cold
held to new work by ice
servitude of sweeping