“One more!” the boy cries
 
as his dad closes the book—
 
deepening winter.

 
 
 

Midwinter surprise—
 
in my left shoe a cricket
 
chirrs a morning song!

 
 
 

An open window—
 
the scent of morning coffee
 
spills into the street.

 
 
 

A red-winged blackbird,
 
perching on a twilit reed,
 
bends it toward the moon.

 
 
 

On my morning walk
 
I watch a schoolboy watching
 
the man who feeds birds.

 
 
 

I snatch at the wind,
 
which slips between my fingers,
 
laughing as it flees.

 
 
 

Two wayward mallards
 
skim the suburban rooftops,
 
searching for a pond.

 
 
 

Defying winter,
 
the sunflowers keep blooming
 
near my backyard fence.

 
 
 

If a weathered brick
 
should somehow divulge secrets,
 
would I understand?

 
 
 

Stripped of its brilliance,
 
the once-crimson maple leaf
 
has turned brittle-brown.