• The Clouds lie in swirls
• As if the Angels were molting
• And the Night Hawks fly swiftly by them
• As if trying to catch a little bit of Heaven

Crocus wakes early, head raised high
As sun meanders cornflower sky.
Fledglings fidget, waiting to fly
Another spring arrives on the sly.

Grain flashes gold in the fire of the sun.
Summer breeze flirts ‘til day is done.
Dust rises heavy and piles in heaps..
The river runs still and the brook is deep.

Dark clouds fall over solemn sky.
South bound doves coo mournful cry.
The forest dons jacket of crimson and gold,
As the wind bites hard and the ground grows cold.

Icy wind scours the barren hill.
Snow diamonds settle deep and still.
Icicle fingers strain to touch earth
One year dies, another gives birth.

There were clouds in every shade of gray imaginable
and just one patch of robin’s-egg blue
showing that there are two sides to everything
even the autumn sky;
low slung clouds,
fringed with the icy tips of impending winter;
billowing with inner winds that threaten to break through,
allowing the first pin feathers of snow to cascade to the ground.