First snow is always new
to me
turbans on seed pods
heavy as air
scant
waist-high to a grass blade
swaddling
the morning
like something
never seen
never breathed
before
to me.
Tag Archives: seed pods
Connections: November 1.16
When the sound of the trees
goes from swooshes to crackles
and the greens give way
to black and brown spackles
and they all play percussion
on their own dry bones
dig out the flannels
dust off the hearthstones
measure your books
and quilts by reams
and see to your stock
of winter daydreams.
Connections: September 14.16
Still life with sun
delicate heap
in happy composition
hoping no one will sweep.
With thanks for another beauty from the S.W. Berg Photo Archives.
Connections: September 9.16
In browning grove
yellow supplicant petals
ziggurat of khaki and air
prayer beads
color of bitterest cocoa
a green veil
tattered
tired
falls
reverently
away.
