so beautiful

forests burn

and the moon is so

beautiful

ending

the leaves 

on the decorative 

crabapple tree are 

rusting away

maple trees 

are finally 

bursting 

into 

brilliant 

red 

flame 

against wet dark wood

the rain seems incessant

while wind splatters wet 

leaves on everything and 

on days with no sun 

when the light is

being eaten 

away by more

darkness it feels

like everything

is ending

full of hopes

Don't give up for dead
trees that haven't bloomed quite yet
May is full of hopes

is hope like this?

the way the tree appears
completely without life
today but could sprout buds
tomorrow if you wait

return of shade

tree-cast bone shadows

grow into shade once again

spring comes with intent

will spring come to my tree this year

lonely sound 

of bare tree

branches

in constant

restless 

motion

whacking

each other

like children

left in the back 

seat too long

winter bare bones

breeze whispers summer
while rattling the winter
bare bones of my tree

bittersweet

we watch buds sprout past

one dead leaf that won't let go

spring is bittersweet

not lost yet

snow floating past buds
on winter bare trees whispers
we have not lost yet

Trees are weeping

Trees are weeping sap
from all their broken places
winter's losing ground

soon

purple dusk sky rests

on bare, weary branches, but

spring is coming soon

not yet

purple dusk sky pierced

by sharp, black winter branches

spring is not here yet

already

When did this happen?

Trees stripped so bare already

November half gone

the shame of late autumn skies

Sky blushes deep pink,

ashamed of bare branches, 

but spring will come again.

falling faster

Did you see the sky today, Brother Wolf?

Clouds on clouds grey on grey as trees bled out

leaves from fatal wounds of coming winter.

forests burning somewhere

Friday the light that fell 

from high windows cast 

an odd shade on 

corporate carpets: 

orange-ish pink.  

The sun was a large 

red-orange ball 

when it set.  

The moon (just past 

one quarter) is coppery.  

Forests somewhere 

are burning, and we 

are far enough away 

to only see the beauty 

it adds to the light.

progress

I had forgotten a game

I used to play when I rode

down tree-lined sidewalks

where I would sit up as tall 

as I could to try to brush 

the overhanging leaves with 

my bike helmet.  Now that I

do not have to be hunched, 

deliberate, and slow when

I ride, I remembered and

played it again today.

Everyone who plays this 

game is a winner.

on a beautiful day in summer

I am trying not

to let it matter

that I can no longer

remember the color

of the spring blossoms

on the backyard

crab-apple tree

of my youth.

the first thing

The first thing I liked about this home 

was the pink tree out front in full bloom. 

Not that pale pink kind, though that 

is lovely, too, and not 

the really dark, deep 

pink but the middle-darkish 

pink that smells of heaven and keeps 

it's fruit all year round, so it is 

beautifully dressed even in the winter 

when the other deciduous 

trees 

are only 

bones.

between me and the sky

I love spring because
there is something
between me and the sky
besides the naked
bones of tree branches.