Knock, knock, knock, who’s there,
A red-headed winter friend
pecking at soft skin
The wild and the free
travel with old compasses,
internal rhythms
Deep hibernation
awakened by shades of gray
still, winter's sleep calls
Exposed by spring’s sun,
leftover frames of winter
bridge cold hope with chance
Gorgeous shots. That second one steals my breath.
ReplyDeleteAww, thanks! There's something about that one I like too, even if the geese are blurry and out of focus!
ReplyDelete