Spring in the Time of COVID-19

Water gushes over Shoshone Falls

and rock chucks loll in the sun,

oblivious to the stay-at-home order

for the coronavirus

or that ordinary people

are not neighbors

but potential carriers

who scuttle into grocery stores

with masks and gloves

darting down one aisle

and then back

to avoid contamination

by other humans.

All the while–

daffodils bloom

birds come back

and hyacinths wear

Easter pastels.

On North Carolina

the slow drawl of “hi, y’all”

heavy, humid air

collard greens, barbecue

random burial spots

kudzu vine, spongy grass

turtles creep and slide

abandoned homes

roadside swamps

kinfolk everywhere

trashy trailers, tailgaters

mansions next to shacks

“Yes, ma’am. No, ma’am.”

standing water, body odor

winter pansies, roadkill deer

cranes and herons, hawks

 

Idaho Notebook: September

Hidden Lakes

Profusions of goldenrod

adorn the road to Centennial Park.

Clouds circle the sun, a feathery swirl–

windy gusts hint of impending snow.

Hummingbirds abandon the backyard feeder—

and gnats haunt the evening cool.

We, like elk, hunker down and wait.

Perrine Bridge

Sunset at Dierkes Lake

Autumn comfort

Idaho Notebook: February

Leaves in winter

A lone picnic table sits amid dirty piles of snow.

Mini-glaciers line roads and crowd parking lots.

Snow weary citizens emerge from heated homes

as the sun burns through slate gray shroud.

Black birds teeter atop a wind-whipped maple,

like Congressmen trying to keep their balance

in Washington’s blustery blasts.

Dierkes Lake

Snowy Day

Idaho Notebook: January

• 

back from southern holidays

church cancelled for ice and freezing rain; work begins again

evergreens sag, releasing snowy burdens

the tips of last year’s corn stalks poke through whitened fields

dogs plow paths from pen to house

oh, to be a turtle in her shell

Snake River in Winter

Walrus Tusks

Going Home

Idaho Notebook: November

Forlorn Halloween pumpkins.

Leaf silhouettes against a slate gray sky.

Hint of rosemary snatched by the wind.

Towering elms capped in blackbirds.

Red nose. Cold toes. 

Gleaning squirrels.

Quiet expectancy.

Thankfulness for Christ the Lord.

 

Idaho Notebook: October

Autumn in Idaho: genteel, civil, illusory.

 

Trees parade burnished hues.

 

Spiders spin furiously, festooning trees and sending webs floating on the breeze.

 

Harried leaves skitter across the street; some stick to a wire fence, hundreds of tiny hand prints; others join a pile in the corner.

 

In this health-conscious world, bags of candy line the grocery shelves.

 

Jack Frost visits and leaves dangle, black and damaged; flowers droop and shrivel.

 

Do you think good surprises outweigh the bad surprises in life?

 

Grace: Hope Beyond Hope

Masking ruthless aggression

with pink-blushed flowers,

morning glory thrives

in sun or shade,

in flower beds, farmlands,

fields, and ravines;

reproduces from roots,

rhizomes, stems, or seeds;

revives after decades of

lying lifeless underground;

and is eradicated only by constant

smothering and spraying.

 
Likewise, our most persistent sins,

clad in clever rationalizations,

must be overcome

by unremitting applications

of faith and prayer

and continuous suffusions

of atoning grace.

Temper Tantrum

 

In a last ditch effort to

foil Spring’s debut,

Winter throws a royal fit:

frenzied snow squalls,

blasts of windy fury,

hails of icy orbs.

His coup de grace?

suffocating stratus shrouds.

 

Nonetheless,

Yellow Bell lifts her head.

I Met a Yogi While Walking

The calico cat

sat, motionless, guru-like

inscrutable sage