the fog dissolving bare branches but a glimpse of green
until it sings spreading seeds through the escaping sky
the darkness of parked cars on a spring morning the breeze
the creak of the door as she leaves I hope the mockingbird wasn’t listening
the snowdrops barely blooming I throw away another pen
the green rubber band trying to hold it all together
morning sun through church bells dark spots on orchid leaves
flipping through the leaves the poem I was writing in the wind
so many things but where do I
start in the red shade of the oak
calm morning the neighbor’s dog starts to bark back when I was a kid
other animals 