a rising sun paints
gold spaces between tree limbs
nature’s own stained glass

4/11—Holy Saturday

A left-over moon
in a bright morning sky winks
into my seeking eye.


A pirouetting squirrel
hands clasped in prayer
dances just for me.


Snow weights daffodil
brows making everything
wait, whitely, for spring.


weeping cherry buds
petals push snow into sun
popcorn opening


A bright sun rises.
But dark clouds come from the west
and eat it up.


Day light empty sky.
Without bird chirp a world is
only photograph.


Late April clouds come
make a snowfield of the sky
tucked in tulip buds—red!


where mist meets sunlight
rising a world turns crystal
everything comes clear


Persistent bird chirp,
serious sunlight, flowers—
a world May-ready.


April ends the way
it began. Gray wind blowing
all the way to May.

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