At the Seasons' Edges

I accept each season

in the middle
of summer, fall, winter, or spring.
It is what it is.
But I'm impatient
in between
as the seasons change.
In March
I look for signs of spring,
In May I am waiting
to plant summer squash.
In September
I wait for changing leaves,
Then in November,
the first snowflake.
At the seasons' edges
I anticipate,seeking
what is not yet here.

Ice!

An entry in the Ice Art Contest in Fairbanks, Alaska.  Beautiful!

We Wake to This...

The birds are going to need food.

Remember?

Remember the joy
of the simplest things
a swing, a flower, a sparkly rock?
Or the sun, a dandelion, the clouds
creating dragons in the sky?
Remember the joy
of simple things?

Antiquity

Petrified wood from Alaska...

A Lone Daffodil

it snowed last night
35 degrees...

hey!  it's spring!

A Towel

Examined carefully,
thoughtfully,
what is said here
by this towel?
Love?
Gratitude?
Self-respect?
Care?

Simple things
speak silently
the words
we impress.