More like May

one small stone in a riverbed of stones; day7

More like May ~ Michael Douglas Jones

This warm January morning, more like May; a mockingbird, with mate, in the winterberry tree, plucks a berry ripe red, and flies to the top of the redbud. Turning back, he wonders; in this struggling economy, will there be enough berries to last until the June bugs return. Turkey vulture, high above, knows there is always plenty.

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The Farm in Fox Hollow

one small stone in a riverbed of stones; day6

Seven Buff Browns ~ Michael Douglas Jones

Down the ridge road at the farm in fox hollow, fresh this morning from the house of hens; seven Buff browns and the duck’s one daily. Down on the farm; no discrimination. 

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The January Garden

one small stone in a riverbed of stones; day5

October’s uncarved pumpkins
in the January garden,
one by one, become
a winter dinner bowl
for passing passerines.

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Pristine Moleskine

one small stone in a riverbed of stones; day4

Pristine moleskines,

four to a drawer,

tucked inside

the chiffonier;

waiting for words

I thought unworthy

of pristine moleskines,

four to a drawer.

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Predawn Snow Shower

one small stone in a riverbed of stones; day3

Winter. A collage sketch by Michael Douglas Jones

   Snow shower, sugar powder, dry and drifting down the ferry road, where I walk, winter warm, recalling summer girls, with funnel cake faces, waiting for the Ferris wheel.  

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First Day Back

one small stone in a riverbed of stones; day2

Crow painting by the incredibly talented Kandy Vermeer Phillips.

Fifteen minutes before dawn,

 black dashing in every direction,

 fifteen crows cawing, complaining;

 they’re already late for work.

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This First Day

Rainbow north, this first day.

one small stone in a riverbed of stones; day1

Seconds before sunset,

our ancient mother’s

 glowing smile;

 my doubts

 about this day

 dissolved.

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