He Carved....

He carved his angel

and as each sliver

fell to the ground

like feathers of

soft down

he felt

at peace

That place...

Evermore

I am in that place

gooseflesh skin

bewildered

yet

calm

Memories

The icy somber tempest

on squares of window glass

create memories

of savoring Bordeaux.

Different colors

Can't bring to mind

all the different colors

that

sustain you in my soul.

Small Stones 25-30

Puddle ducks by the hundreds

web footed and in mass

sing their dawns chorus

in the freshwater shallows

of winter

 _______________________________

The feathered tall blue hunter

wades with movements imperceptible

patience...patience

in his vigilant pursuit

                                            ____________________________                                              

 Sharp repeated taps

like Morse code

awaken me

my eyes open

and focus toward the sound

at my window

finding the little sparrow

who had scattered my dreams

...and I smile

____________________________________

Clouds float in a rose madder wash

and as the sun is setting

a hawk dives

and plays its part in the

amazing orchestra of nature

_______________________________

Large, round

awe-inspiring leaves

flat and unsinkable

landing fields for dragonflies

home to many

mud bottom pond dwellers

_____________________________

The dampness chills me

as the wispy tendrils of fog

seep in

Then a welcoming and gentle

Zephyr-like breeze

limits its presence

Small Stones 19-24

A fragile wildflower

grows from a split

in the silver-gray stone

its roots thriving happily

__________________________________

Ground soaking rain of late

set the silver gray ceniza abloom

with diminutive rose-purple flowers

saying thank you

_________________________________

The queen palm spreads its fronds

creating a lacy and delicate shade

bestowing the harsh landscape below

with a bit of enchantment.

__________________

Morning light and shadows

becoming whimsically elongated

then leisurely withdraws

the enchantment of reflection

as the day progresses

___________________________________________

Jackrabbits hurrying along

following the illuminated

veined roadmaps of their ears

 to a warm location

before the sable darkness

comes and

erases the course

_______________________________

Sepia toned

discolored

blemished

subjects sitting properly

some standing unbent

dubious faces of the past

looking back at me

evocative

Small Stones 14-18

 Sun streaming into my window

introducing shadows of leaf shapes

opaque silhouettes that resemble

Japanese calligraphy

_______________________________________

Soft fuzzy heads

of purple fountain grass

dance in the gentle winds

swaying back and forth

bewitching

the full wolf moon

and me

Soaring from broken woodlands

to summits of oak trees

scanning the world below

the Cooper's Hawk

finds it's ultimate perch and

adorns the top of the telephone pole

that leans into lost voices

Taking pleasure in the sunshine

the banana tree unfurls

stretches its large leaves

out into the world

looking at the birds

and the rose colored clouds

that sail above it at dawn

dark obsidian sky

broken only by

a handful of

constellations

dotted with twinkle

Small Stones 10-13

Tiny chapel

shelters gravesite and

candlelit altar

which holds

handwritten testaments

of faith

and gratitude.

Worn splints

and crutches,

pain and sorrow

stay behind...

now just castaways.

 _________________________________________________________

Savoring the slightly sweet liquid...

rich, with a slight taste of

mulberry, spice

and smooth vanilla,

watching the beads

roll transparent

down my glass.

Like some leafy creature,

exotic and large,

the philodendron's arms

safeguard a small

and timid creature

underneath its 

green and

somber veil.

Fog rolls serenely in,

and the misty lunar light

becomes radiant

while the quietude and stillness

seem to unearth my soul.

Small Stones 5-9

Noble live oak,

winter green and full,

acorns have fallen

to its base,

adorning the shadow quilt

of speckled light,

on saplings

wee and delicate.

Fox tail ferns
living a carefree life
in a front porch pot
with fronds extending
to welcome me home

Small mesquite residents,

sing their melodious birdsongs

teakettle teakettle teakettle

and

cheery cheery cheery

good morning reminders

Rain and thunder

interrupt my repose.

I gaze through my window

smiling at the

wet round drops

 collected in square holes

of the window screen.

Palm trees stand upright

 where the earth and sky meet

and create silhouettes

against a Prussian blue

almost night

Small Stones 1-4

Red tailed hawks

parasail

over my

vermillion horizon,

almost touching

the clouds

that float

in their cerulean wash.

Salvia, sage, santolina

humbly obedient to rains kiss

their sharp, pleasant smells

rising under the crescent moon

Wintertime windowsill

cultivating pelargoniums

sensual aroma

 to keep my thumb green

Sunlightrays of crimson red,
then honey gold,
create mesmerizing shadows...
to cheer me up this morning.