This bitter wind is a
shepherd to the trees
deftly shearing the
snowy fleece from the
Leyland Cypress along
the fence line
The white crystals
leap skyward
swirling
before falling
to earth a
second time
loosely
scattering
around the
evergreen’s
freshly shorn
knees
Tag: Trees
Poesy
What is waking at three
in the morning to pee
but poesy
The moon
brightly shining
somewhere
Owls grasping
errant field mice
from the tall grass
Trees
whispering secrets
like they do when
when the sun is away
knocking on other
folks doors
Poesy
Mystery
Getting up
to pee
Cherished
Though their time together is brief
the trees love the fireflies deeply
Cherished as the twinkling stars
come down to earth to play at
their feet and tickle their leaves
and the trees giggle and tell them
fairy tales of magical things
Of fluffy white snow
and long dark nights
of cold
Cold Clutch
The cedars are drunk
from too much ice
Swaying heavily like
a hopeless lush striving
courageously to remain
between the
sidewalk’s edges
they both
eventually
will begin to weep
releasing their frozen heart’s
burdens to return to the earth
In Truth
All we need to know
is whispered
by the leaves
of oak trees
and all we need to see
to believe
becomes clear
when a hawk
takes wing
A soul can’t be discerned
over the din of
trifling concerns
All the clutter
we place first
creates only
a dearth
of hope
Spymaster
The cedars were
whispering mysteries
in the easy rain
as day began
padding catlike
along the
eastern mountains
wet tracks
snaking over
the ridge line
but her approach
did not come
unnoticed,
the cedars,
old and wise,
slipped their
secrets off their
shoulder with a
sexy sway
and a smitten
westbound
wind,
ever dutiful,
whisked them
safely away
