there are these days — times

with their agates and whirlpools

today, good morning!

sunlight in canyons

as a Bee is to flower

smile, and hands. Nana

you are potential

distance and angle of me

pulls you together

ducklings form a mass

that calls for all the pigments

listening to birds

on my forest runs

awareness of light; contrast;

small bubbly fractals

vortex of petals

nodes in the past and future

a vibrant puddle

be the blank canvas

glazing ice on leaf and limb

tributaries — gone

your feet hold freedom

so humbling, loving, and kind

reveal gratitude

I have a secret.

lets us forget what it is

spirals of corners

we run the same paths

bring brown creepers to focus

reaching skyward — up

fractions of flowers

the same and yet different

reflect and renew

tip top, fir tree crow

but drops — collecting, dripping

p of finding nuts

shoes of sand and moss

I fly with all of them that

harbinger of spring

we all need this path

that practice the art of firm

that lead to wonder

I found a carcass

whispered to my deepest self

the shadows today

let us hold it all

appear on my walkabouts

wrapping around beams

like the heat bubble

immense, vast, ocean of mist

to then turn around

gaze in reflection

that calls for all the pigments

to the summers end

what once brought me joy

that provide us with brilliance

as pink fades to night

sky sits on the ground

better plotted in polar

in this little pond