The smell of rich compost,
and harvests yet to be,
        blown away by spring winds.

brittle with ice
    a wind chime's note
in a spring breeze

     Moonlight on paper -
her crooked arm
     follows the ink.

This budded branch
   sheathed in ice,
reflects back the world.

The top shelf of stacked rain clouds,
bathed in gold sunlight.
                     A bee heads for home.

Yellow butterfly
flits up, down, on a wild ride:
         slipstream of a train.

The fish flops about
in the osprey's grip...
    waiting for my tea to steep.