our misty world was soft
and we were free

In The Dooryard Of The Birdhouse

the world
bloomed around us
it was enough just to be

Morning Meadow

night is banished
now is
light’s time to play

Cows In The Pasture

however far away
place holders
for a summer’s day

Morning Sun

light bright enough
to rouse
all sleeping seeds

Landscape Tapestry

time’s shuttle
branches, reeds, weeds


last night’s rain
returned us to November
and snow begins again

Goldenrod Gone By

in the cold
old blooms
imitate snow

There Is A Time In November

when right now
comes precisely
into focus


as autumn’s color departs
we store its memory
for winter sustenance

Late Meadow

the season’s colors
settling down
to the ground into brown

Two Chairs On The Path

together we sit
and wait for fall’s
parade of color

Afternoon With Cows

we bask
in autumn light
as time floats by

Bones and Softness

inhabited self
contradiction consummated

Meadow Surf

swells of color
summer’s current
these flowering wave sets