December Days


snow on the ground,
looking featherbed soft from the kitchen window,
enticing little ones out to play,
coffee on the stove,
grand parents around the kitchen table,
telling stories from faraway days,
a favorite time of the year.





Discomfort 

her eyes dance around my face, 
looking for a resting place, 
the scars too many, 
the pain too real, 
instead, 
her eyes look through me, 
seeing nothing that I feel.





An Early Morning Rain


wake up to rain in the gauge,
only a trace,
yet the trees seem refreshed,
branches bent in leafy grins and smiles,
cool breezes blow,
while the clouds make their getaway,
before the return of the mighty sun,
seeing all the mischief done in his realm of fire,
his anger builds,
and his furnaces bellow,
frightening the cool breezes to stillness,
everything waits in silent anticipation of his angry wrath,
knowing payback will be demanded,
for the sins of an early morning rain.





A Train Ride


saw a baby smile today,
on a crowded commuter train,
radiating love all around,
the smile met with glares,
and indifference,
sat wondering,
what was the lesson taught,
and what that baby thought,
smiling on the subway.





In Conflict


conflict between father and son,
angry voices raised in defiance,
the world seen from different places,
and in different ways,
the experience of pain,
the only common ground.





A Pioneer Family 


walking the cemetery on this Christmas Eve, 
the grave of a child, 
and then another with the same last name, 
further down the row, 
two more, 
all four younger than ten,
outlived by parents, 
buried just beyond, 
the mind reels, 
and the heart breaks, 
new as the morning's dawn. 





Disciples


License plates from across the nation, 
people from around the world,
young and old, 
they come, 
a pilgrimage to the plains, 
in honor of the birds of the sky, 
Sand Hill Cranes,
making an annual trek,
eons old,
the value in seeing, 
Mother Nature at her finest.