Waiting for a storm

that may or may not come, we

grow tired and fall asleep.

JDG

Running through the yard,

three young deer suddenly stop

and look back for their mothers.

JDG

Seeing that lone duck

glide slowly across the pond,

I wonder if she’s lonely.

JDG

Rumor has it that

the blooms on those Bradford Pears

are pieces of escaped clouds.

JDG

Spring’s green message of

renewal reminds us gray

doesn’t have the final say.

JDG

I sometimes think of

migrating myself as I 

listen to those honking geese.

JDG

Let us police

the sly way fear and doubt sneak

in to rob us of our peace.

JDG

That wee woodpecker

at the feeder seemed confused.

Should he peck or should he chew?

JDG