Sensational Welcome

After the first mowing the smell

of wild green

onions lingers,

carried by soft

currents across the golden blooms

of budding Spring.

Quickened by such

hues and scents, brash

bumble bees hover, adding their

hum and buzz to

this mild mix,

welcoming Spring.


Stage Whispers

The red morning sky announces

a storm is in

the wings, waiting

to take the stage.

That sunny warm-up act will fade.

Treacherous Sleet

will follow, joined

by Icy Rain.

If we are lucky, Snow won’t show

or will quickly

leave, not having

been well received.


School’s Out Snow Poetry In Multiple Forms

Darn, darn, darn, darn, darn.

Darn, darn, darn, darn, darn, darn, darn,

darn, and double darn.

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

#!#!,  #!#!,  #!#!, #!#!, #!#!, #!#!, #!#



How long? How long? How long? How long? How long?

How long? How Long?

How long? How

long? How

l…o…n…g ?



Too cold to stay outside for long.

Too boring just

to watch t.v.

Picking on each

other is ok for a time

til someone goes

a bit too far.

Then the loud calls

for me to referee begin.

Kids and snow – one

or the other

just has to go.



Many Ways And Times

Watching the wind shake the branches

just enough for

a little snow

to slip and join

the whiteness on the waiting ground,

I remember

there are many

ways and many

times for letting go, some easy,

some not so much,

but such times come

to all of us.


At Her Core

She met me at the car, tears on

her cheeks. She was

crying, she said,

’cause her sister

was hurting. This morning she told

me to just sit

and rest while

she made my bed.

It is no surprise that given

a list of core

values, Sami

chose empathy.


Earth Whispers

Early this morning when the fields

still lay under

a whisper of

white, the trees stood,

branches raised, a mute offering

in the cold hush

of day. Before

the sun begins

its long journey across the sky,

I stand too, held

by earth’s beauty

and quiet grace.


On This Dark Night

As the days grow ever more short

and darkness comes

so early now,

even the dogs

stay close to home and the cats don’t

venture far. Why,

I wonder, is

it only I

wending my way home on this dark

night when even

the moon stays tucked

behind the clouds?


Icy Hopes

The crook of that cherry tree

held a bit of

the forecast white

but otherwise

the land lay rain-soaked but bare.

Inside, the kids

crossed their fingers

and hoped for ice.

It would be nice, they said, to

be snowed in, but

they’d settle for

roads slick with ice.


The Proof Lies In The Practice

Knowledge plus ten thousand times is

skill,” Suzuki

said and he must

know. Practice is

what it takes to make things real and

there’s the rub. Why

can’t just knowing

be enough? Why

must the proof lie in the practice

when insight seems

so dazzling and

alot less work?


Wordless Peace

Driven outside by the tv’s

steady drone, I

find solace in

the play of light,

 the stately silhouette of trees

 now bare, the pond’s

 wordless catch of

clouds. These muted

winter ways ease a soul wearied

by speech and bring

a welcome peace

to harriedness.