Nature Writing

SAPLING #57 Promise

We turn the page of so many days.
The memories made, precious and carried to term, can now slowly fade to black-and-white…

Ephemeral

Like the breath of the wisteria,
whose sweetness clings
to the warmth of the
afternoon sun
for such a brief time
before those purpaled…

Late May, Late Afternoon

After Jane Kenyon’s “Let Evening Come” on her birthday

Let the light of late afternoon
call the chickens back to the yard
but not yet into the coop to roost.

He Drew Such Perfect Circles

How to Read Poetry

for Connie Eggers

On the college library shelves I see
all of Mary Oliver’s collections
have been taken outside.

Blue Pastures was taken in the rain
and read under a pine, safe
until the wind…