Snow-laden branches,
sagging under cold wet weight.
But they will rebound.
Thriving on cold air,
icicles defy hot sun
(from a safe distance).
falling when not held.
Leaves still bright grace roads and lawns;
they danced to distant wind chimes.
Leaves still green.
Intrepid seed wings
lead the way.
Leaves drop one by one,
each with a story to tell.
But can we listen?
With more shades of green
than I can easily count,
trees hail Labor Day.
Reach up to the sun?
Not that far, just far enough.
Photosynthesis
Red maples flower
and greet returning warmth with
rubies in the sky.
Wounded bird in flight
casts shadow of fear and hope?
No, autumn leaf falls.
Two leaves did not wait
for cool nights after short days.
Turned on Father’s Day.
Fresh from the store, I was medium blue
with a touch of gray and a ton of confidence
that the mail would be safe from the weather.
I shrugged off decades of sun, rain, and wind.
I never flinched when the snow thrower hurled
slush laden with road salt and grit.
My pitted outside is the palest of blues, but
my door still swings wide and shuts tight.
My inside is still me, still medium blue
with a touch of gray and a ton of confidence
that the mail is still safe from the weather.
Blues ~ Pic and a Word Challenge #368
Warmth and light transform
dark sausage to bright flowers.
Magnolia opens.
Glow ~ Pic and a Word Challenge #367
Flowers first
when cherry trees wake.
Leaves later.
Five began last fall.
Just two have not yet rotted.
More rocks are ready.
Mellow Curmudgeon 