Most Sundays a writing friend and I spend an hour working together. Here are the results of today's prompts.
grass paths, snowbound on either side
bare branches against a grey sky
dozens of snowbirds under the feeder
scarlet sunrise yielding to a yellow sun
toe-curling cold giving way to thawing warmth
oak leaves dangling by their stems in the quiet air
ducks talking to themselves in the hen house
next door dog greeting me with a sharp bark as I step outside
rooster repeating his sunrise trumpeting
shades of brown and gold and gray and white with a splash of red winterberry
ice on the pond
Photographs Not Taken
8 inches of snow filling my parking spot
selfie of disheveled me after an hour of shoveling
sun glinting off snow, casting rainbows far and wide
wind-sculpted snow lying along the fence rails
black trees inked against a pale sky
the deep brown of the dog Bear’s eyes as we gazed at each other
the man in the bright red cap driving a bright green tractor
water thundering over the dam, jumping up and rushing away downstream
wings of a dozen geese flapping in unison
the charming little pies made in an ice cube tray
Haiku-esque From Lists
Grass path, snowbound edge
leading to the henhouse door.
Rooster greets the sun.
Grey squirrel, tail a flag,
quarrels with the birds.
Yellow sun dispels the cold.
The pond, a sealed note
written about ice and snow.
Underneath, a fish.
Snow is a blank page
upon which winter writes
in shades of brown and gold.