pond shimmer
there not there
   grebes

early spring
the honey pot
nearly empty

goose crossing
the old pick-up’s
broken horn

valley stillness —
a butterfly passes through
an empty log

fading stars
a hedgehog haphazards
its way back home

filtered sunlight
where the forest thins
daffodils

her gray hair
gone blonde —
first day of spring

fiddlehead fern
the way it rolls
off the tongue

sunset
flash of starlings
in the acacia

day lilies
waking to find
it wasn’t a dream