In the fog, the bare trees look
like they are lightly covered with snow.
This early morning walk in early April
is chilling cold reminding me that spring
is still more of a suggestion today.
Snow Fog Trees
Tag seasons
Reverse Time
In the constant rush into the future,
I take time now to look back.
A personal solstice when I turn pages
that have recorded my own unsynchronized seasons.
Seeking equinox. Balance within this vast world.
For a Moment
Persephone has returned again to the underworld.
The Sun paused for just a moment
and where darkness had reigned, the light
has begun to overcome it – but there
is still darkness, cold, and sadness ahead.
Only a Season
Sometimes when I am writing a poem in the ronka form, it just won’t fit into the little 7X5 box I created.
Here is one of those poems.
Summer is only a season.
We teach,
and then we are gone.
What more can we do
but plant a few seeds
and hope for rain?
The Seasons
Sometimes spring is Spring. Sometimes autumn’s Autumn.
Winter is definitely Winter. Summer’s always Summer.
At least that’s true for me. Here.
Solstices, equinoxes, calendars. Celestial, human. True. False.
I have many more seasons. Fewer years.
Goose Summer
These mild, like summer, autumn days float
with gossamer clouds and filmy spider webs
moving slightly in the breeze and geese
wedging to the lake overhead as I
take off my goose-down vest and rest.
“Goose Summer” is a Middle English term for this kind of late summer weather. See my etymological explanation at whynameitthat.blogspot.com/…indian-summer-gossamer-and-goose-summer
Writing the Day 