Tag: trees
winter barn
a faint smell of summer through an open door
snow squall
only the H is still visible on the No Hunting sign
locust leaves
on the flat black roof haloed in dew
snow-bound woods
root hairs on a toppled tree are the only gossamer
white with rime
the locust sapling looks electric beside the bowed spruce
back field
fog drifts through branches rigid with ice
beside the oak
with a huge round hole an uncanny silence
south roof icicles
no less grotesque for being spindly
fresh snow
a boil on the black birch looks good enough to lick
damp with snowmelt
the oak log’s colors are so bright I have to touch
inside the deer fence
the 200-year-old white oak isn’t stirring
