ashes

the log fire is cold

again

winter log pile 

getting smaller by the day

longer and longer

a pair of tits 

buds bursting in the hazel

all over the place

bouncing around

winter tits in the hazel

are so busy

bottom water

the moon loosens its grip

on the starfish

vacuum

almost nothing

is sacred

buds buds buds

a thousand shades of green

the birds are singing

rest in peace 

but the obituaries 

never do

brighter and brighter

daffodils raise their heads

the rain has stopped