Day Twenty-six, NaPoWriMo

Those sitting with hills
brushing their hair with wind
having a cloud ceiling.
These are the folk, trusted
and thought to be brave
facing the dangers they find
and ignoring the phantoms.
The birds bring them news
and the seasons, in turn,
bring them joy and wisdom
bearing new changes and gifts
Those sitting with hills
have gentle hands, knowing
life to be tender, a baby
or kitten or fish to hold
and then when done
to set it free, smiling.


Day Twenty-five, NaPoWriMo

In the rain the ground
parts to let the still greenness
flow upward and out.
In the rain the greens
resolve to face April’s chill
leaving the warm mould.
In the rain the world
takes a big breath of soft spring
and relaxing, exhales.

Day Twenty, NaPoWriMo

This morning before work I headed out, hoping to do a little painting before work. And I did. But there was this glaring bright thing up in the sky that hurt my eyes! Sun? What’s that? I don’t remember…

A long grey sad
glowy at the edges
it comes over
the last hill of winter
in February a day
warm enough to melt the walks
is welcomed gladly
in April it had better be warm
it had better not bring snow
Surly? perhaps. Winter is
a string of many days and
furnace-driving nights
As much as you can revel
in the icy challenge of it
eventually it has to go.
The birds have returned,
the daffodils are waiting
and well, we’re all waiting
for that clear day
that turn of air
the softening of the tree line
bursting with maple red
and willow gold
and spring.

Day Seventeen, NaPoWriMo

The radio spits out
news that can’t be held
listening as witness,
eyes opening and turning
to the weirdness of snow
on the seventeenth
of April, snow, hail, sleet
doesn’t this seem
more likely than
all that world stuff?
Mid-April, not mid-March
The days are more
February than May
more grey than sun
and all that again today
This weather three sixty
made fields fine brocade,
green and gold and white,
shining drops on each twig
each an upside down world
each the moment’s truth
and then gone.

Painting, Snowy April Day

This is at the OOM Conservation area. No going any further than the parking lot because it was nasty. I stayed in the car comfy with my tea and paints and watching the weather whizz by.

Day Sixteen, NaPoWriMo

I think the wind and sleet got to me last night and this morning. Ready for spring, mother nature. C’mon, you can do it!

This morning,
amidst wind and sleet
appeared a flock
huddled and clinging,
impaled on branches,
dislodged by the
next gust,
flown now, circling,
they rejoin last year’s
broken castoffs
seeking the wood’s refuge.

This took a few passes. I think the wind rattled my brain too much!

Day Fourteen, NaPoWriMo

Last night
a few days after
the last seen flurry,
a scent of,
daring, spring.
Just past the last
hill home where
the shoulder
is a stream now
dopplerized frogs
in a night
of crossing roads
of crossing seasons
no need to tarry
no reason to hurry,
we’re here.