yellow tree

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talk to me, yellow tree,

tell me how you sing in gold

harmonies of light and float,

you lift and fall in autumn

pieces on the ground ~ whisper

your dance of shifting limbs

you tell time with your turn

teach me roots that grasp

frozen grip when all they hold is

gone

Silent with Wonder

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In the tenderness of morning, the fog

wraps the horses in promise and paints

the yellow blanket soft.  The horses

speak their quiet, feel their Spring,

dance their velvet noses in flowered field.

Silent are the pines, watching

through dew drop eyes, hanging

their needled peace in the foggy morning.

Early morning hoof prints mark time,

yellow daybreak, flowery fog of pineful watch,

and I am silent with wonder.