Winter’s Touch

Fat flakes of snow
fall on my face, my lens,
disrupt focus –
each icy formation
a gentle kiss.

Oh, Winter,
you crafty old man,
winning me over
with the purity of white,
and cold, wet, caresses.

(Sarah S is hosting in the dVerse pub tonight with the prompt: touch.  Photo taken today on our street.)

Independent, En-Masse

A familial gathering – rock balanced upon rock – stands at the Rideau’s edge, one amongst several such groupings, each a masterpiece unto itself, and yet one small, insignificant creation begs attention: a small duck-like figure, turned away from the rest, facing north rather than south, as if it hears a different call.   Even its companion, hesitant, looks back towards the family, for reassurance.  Body of fossil, head carved by erosion – he ponders other horizons. Even the artist – albeit working with spartan tools – could not bend the will of this little being, could not mold him into conformity.  He is childlike innocence and brash determination, and I imagine that as the sun goes down and the tourists disappear, he glides through the water, travels against the current and revels in the freedom.

At the river’s edge
figures rise, stoic families
hailing passersby.

(Written for dVerse pub, and for Ragtag Communities prompt: spartan.  The balanced rock sculptures are the work of John Felice Ceprano and can be found at the Remic Rapids in Ottawa, Ontario.)


Small is Beautiful (Poem and Photos)

Nature’s artistry
inspires awe –
jewelled throats
and iridescent curves

flight of the bumblebee 2

Calming hues
and contrasts
that buzz with
dedicated passion

Monarch 3

The vibrancy of wings –
intricate detailing –
orange floating
on unseen hands.

(Lens-Artists Photo Challenge is: small is beautiful)

Afternoon Visitor

Elegantly attired, he arrives,
focused on an afternoon feast –
garter snakes hiding in bushes –
hadn’t counted on human presence,
interrogates me with hawkish eyes,
just long enough to be immortalized.

(Written for dVerse, hosted by Lilian, who challenges us to create an alphabetical sestet.  To find out more or join in, click here.  Photo credit: V.J. Knutson)


Monday Tourists

roads kick up
blinding mist,
Eight hours –
snarly traffic
Adjust speed for weather

We arrive
at five –
jammed –
Wrong lane!
Merge right!
Weary commuters –
a rush-hour pain –
graciously acquiesce.

to Ottawa.

(Inspired by today’s road trip and written for dVerse’s quadrille: quick, and Ragtag Community’s: grace)