Tiger Riding for Beginners

Traveling Poet Philosopher & Occasional Wiseacre

foggy hilltop:
 something moves,
  striped by trunks.

a cloud shadow 
 dragged over the hill
  like a blanket.

nothing moves 
 on a Summer day,
  but sneaky clouds.

sunlit garden
 to distant mountains —
  every shade of green.

between snowy banks,
 a silvery river
  slips through cold mountains.

cave hermit
 can’t see farmers in fields, just
  brown to green to tan.

late afternoon sun
 penetrates the pavilion —-
  causing napper’s turn.

a shade of orange
 that doesn’t exist in nature…
  yet - there it is!

bare branches,
 in the Winter forest,
  look frost-covered.

through a window:
 first ripples of a Spring rain
  seen on a pond.