Three Small Poems
A Contemplation
I haven't the faintest notion
Why some people live in the snow.
I can't, in my wildest dreams,
Imagine life without trails to go.
But then, I suppose it is fair
To never of others demand
Comprehension, when I am unhappy
With no pencil in my hand.
Art of Nature
branches of willow leaves brush the water
disturbing the pristine reflection
the ripples swirl
watercolors into motion
that settle into a mirror of glass