I got my own little state park
in my own little backyard
full of fallen leaves fallen limbs fallen trees
logs of oaks—maples—pines
my cocoa brown adirondack chair awaits
under a big canopy of green trees
moving back and forth in the s-wwwwwwwiiiiissssshhhhing wind
after darkness comes on tiptoeing shadows
I see the moon most nights
silently trekking cross the sky
fire pit orange red yellow
if it rains I don’t care
I’ll just keep on sitting there
watching all the leaves fall in the fall
orange red yellow—green too
occasionally I grab a rake but not often
see the squirrels burying food for the winter
somehow remembering where they put it months later
I can’t remember what I did last night
geese in v-formation flying their b-52 bombers south
snowbirds carrying luggage and wearing sun visors
to their gulf coast condominiums
I like the snow, the holy quietness of a snowy night
that feeling of peace and tranquility
the crisp cold that refreshes and recharges the spirit
clearing a space in the snow to put bread on a patch of grass
so the birds who will ride out the winter can find food
then it seems I turn around and the snow has melted- spring has come
old man winter is on the run
