snow bent birches
bow down low
to log laden
trucks

the mountains maturely
hold onto acres of snow
like a 19th century bodice…

can the child of spring
be far from birth?

©2005, Denis Dunn

sleet against the windowpane,
or maybe a mouse in the wall...

I listen...
but silence knows no direction

outside,
heavy pine boughs,
deep in the woods
so quiet, so still
a deer steps…

inside, warm,
the sound of a cat’s paw
disturbs very little
as it hunts in a dream
silent as sleet

©2005, Denis Dunn

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