The Googly-Eyed Tree

for Odin, Oscar, Jax and Persy

 

The googly-eyed tree

is something to see

though not very tall

I seem to recall.

 

With a trunk whisper grey

and branches that fray

when the winter wind blows

and its sap barely flows.

 

In summer its leaves

quiver gently on the breeze 

and its canopy, so bold

is a sight to behold.

 

When the warm sun shines down

and illuminates its crown

its roots reach down deep

to water it will reap.

 

When fall comes around

it's samaras flutter down

after just a short flight

to the ground for the night.

 

But you'll never forget

its best feature yet

and the perfect disguise

are its googly-eyes! 

The lake in January

 

At bedtime the lake was still frozen

a grey tundra wasteland

too thin to skate on.

Earlier, a gaggle of geese

goose-stepped their way by

mockingly, or so it seemed.

It had been frozen for a week

but days of rain had turned it

mushy and uninviting.

It is January, dreary

and the longest month.

Even the birds,

the most cheeriest of creatures

are elsewhere!

(January 2021)

 

Pandemic Spring

And spring arrived!

Not roaring like a lion

nor gentle like a lamb.

Yet it arrived

and with it persisted the darkness

borne on the year before.

 

But still, could be heard 

birdsong, and the busyness of bees.

The leaves on the trees

refused to stay

tight in their buds;

and everywhere, shoots

pushed their way

through he warming earth.

(April 2020) 

 

 

The Hug

As luck would have it 

the sun was quite kind today

between the snow squalls

and the rain showers.

Then later,

in the garden,

the kindness covered everything

in a warm embrace;

though winter

still lurked

gingerly in the shade.

(February 2020) 

 

 

The Burden

The load is heavy

as he trudges down the street

that goes nowhere.

The hawk on the post;

the soft breeze through his shirt;

the all-knowing crow on the pole;

he is cognizant of all.

But not of the snake,

clandestine,

beneath the flora in the ditch.

He must sidestep 

a swarm of ants

where the road meets the shoulder

but still,

he trudges with the thorn

sharp in his side.

soon, he can go no further;

the road ends at the fence;

languishing under the weight

of jumbled vines.

Weary from the weight

he must recall his steps;

backtracking

undeviating

unfeeling

unnoticed

to the beginning;

to the source;

to the burden

waiting within.

(March 2019) 

 

Morning Doodly-Do on Vaseux Lake

 

Gossip and chatter

doesn't really matter

unless the source

is the birds, of course.

 

And the sight of a heron

could easily be heaven

if you're looking up high

and see it go by.

 

If the geese are so silly

honking willy-nilly

and the beaver swims by

just let out a sigh.

 

for at last you are home

with no reason to moan

with mornings like this

you've a lifetime of bliss. 

 

 

Under The Weather

 

We knew it would come, but still

it was shocking

waking to temperatures far below seasonal.

Plunged into the depths of winter

after a brief, sweet taste of spring. 

 

Last week, I was paddling

this week, I am huddled

in front of the fire.

The wind chill limiting all outdoor pursuits.

Words like polar vortex and arctic air 

are tossed around every hour of every day.

 

Last night's skiff of snow

will be here for the duration now

as will the roaring wind.

Time to stay inside, under the weather and ask

Why is Mother Nature so cruel? 

(February 2021)