His Stare

Our visitor stares at me,
waiting for my next move
before deciding to stay or fly.
Actually, he has already decided,
or it has been decided for him,
and that is why he stares at me,
waiting for me next move.

Indian Paintbush

Discovered this on this morning's walk.

Sometimes

Sometimes,
I'm on the outside
looking in
at the rest of you.
Sometimes,
I just want in
to belong with you all.
Sometimes
I don't.

I don't remember
going outside
away from everyone
and everything
I once knew.

Sometimes
It just seems
Natural,
and sometimes,
it's heavy on me.
That's when
I want back in.

The Simplest Tools

The simplest tools,
a piece of rock,
or metal,
we hold in our hands
the future
of our race,
and of the earth.

April 15th Snow

peas spouts in the snow

In the grey area
between two seasons
the jagged edges
of winter and spring,
I enjoy the snow,
not having planted
all my garden yet.
Let it snow today,
the sun will shine
tomorrow.






(and our taxes are done!)

to a cricket hidden in the grass chirping

To me,
you sing
the rhythm
of seasons,
the heartbeat
of life.

Nebular Architecture

Of the simplest materials,

Clouds are built:
Water vapor,
Rising air in the sun,
To cooler temperatures aloft.
These build fractal structures,
That draw out my imagination,
Billowing white into the blue,
Grey shadows, perhaps rain beneath.
And they tower up,
Anvils in the sky,
Igniting electrical charges,
Lighting up the clouds,
Maybe burning the earth below,
All built of the simplest things,
Water vapor,
and cooling air,
beneath the sun.