mid-day poem, February 10, 2016

 

‘

Walk along the creeks

And you will see the trees awakening

Even now

The sycamore and birch

Soundlessly siphon living water

Through root, trunk and branch

Drawn by light.

.

In only days, the oak and hickory

On hill and mountain will bud

And the tiny, furry dots

At the end of every twig

Will give a red tinge to the mountainsides

Morning and evening.

 

Copyright 2016