Braile

the old tree’s message
is read
by the wind

We Catch Eyes

and understand
these woods hold
room enough for both of us

Evading The Predator

chipmunks sound
their one chirp warning
everyone down the hole to safety

Silent Talk

each morning
sweet greetings
in the tender look

Unaccompanied

even in the solitude
every gesture mattered
conversation with self

The Golden One

every limb’s gesture
was an encouragement
to joy

Speaking in Colors

conversing
with the maple
autumn confidences

Ode to Winter

The wind writes its snowy message
along the frozen river.