soft afternoon light
creek flows over iron stones—
leafless Cottonwoods
a sea of brushed clouds
lap against the mountain’s shore
—fading winter light
early birds singing
it is still February —
warmth promised today
nine Ponderosas
diligently standing watch,
in morning sunshine
just the bright halo
remains of the sun’s red disc
—quick winter sunset
fifty nine degrees
smiling, eyes shut; warm sun lulls
—late winter Sabbath
silver cloud canvas
ridgeline forest in relief
—frost retreats this week
seventeen porch lamps
arc light spills over the grass
—Christmas bulbs remain
watching from above
Orion‘s seven cold suns
—tonight’s chill returns
one hundred dragons
red eyes blinking in the East
—acceleration