Becoming


nothing
to do
but right now

Mushroom Moon


amongst an astronomy of moss
I found the moon
on the forest floor

Adaption

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in the small space
between them
grew accommodation of others

Dendrites

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wisdom grown
of fear or love
the web becomes the path

Apple’s Obligation

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time is the harvester
of a crop that grew
to feed the earth

Remains

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felled for the path
their stature remains
monument to growth and change

What Begins At The End

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a decomposing stump
the palette
for green construction

The Life of Healing

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near the heart
remains evidence
of a dark jagged year
that had to be grown around

Expectation

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across the winter muted terrain
dogwood grew a net of color
with hopes of catching spring