Hello, Snow!

Hello, snow!

What are you doing here?

Sticking around my hippie cabin?

I know it's a pretty amazing place...

And I love how you decided to just drop by out of the blue...

But you can't stay.

Sure, the firs and pines and redwoods make it feel like you belong...

But there's no way you can survive here.

Still, it was fun while it lasted.

This Average Heart.

A Poem For Saint Valentine (Belated).

This average heart
Both belongs
And does not belong
To me.

Scarcely do I give it thought
As it beats out my life
In its cage of bone.

Prisoner of mine
Yet ruled not by me.

It leads and I follow
Because I cannot do otherwise.

I cannot guess
The expanse of self
Contained within
This modest heart.

This sacred captive

That delights
And surprises
And tortures

As it stoutly pounds down
Thrum upon thrum
The measure of my life.

Sleep, Robin.

"The dandelion tells me when to look for the swallow, the dogtooth violet when to expect the wood-thrush, and when I have found the wake-robin in bloom I know the season is fairly inaugurated. With me this flower is associated, not merely with the awakening of Robin, for he has been awake for some weeks, but with the universal awakening and rehabilitation of nature."

John Burroughs

WAKE-ROBIN

1895

Greetings, visitor!
My heart pounds to see you again.
But you’re up too early.
You need to go
Back to sleep,
Robin.

This photo was taken just now, out back.

And, yes, it's only February 14.

Happy Valentrillium’s Day!