
nothing moves
on a Summer day,
but sneaky clouds.

nothing moves
on a Summer day,
but sneaky clouds.





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


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

Sun-sparkles on the lake’s far end
look icy cool beneath blue skies,
but Winter shivers, I suspend,
because late Spring is telling lies.

legs in leaf litter,
garden lanterns catch light
that pierces bare woods.

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

