Somewhere I've Roamed

(C) R.L.K.

Above the green hills,
a sky of deepest
blue. Birds soaring high,
then higher, as if
searching for the day's
missing clouds. Bright sun
of summer shining.
Old folks asleep on
front porches. (If they
dream, may it be of
good things they have known,
however briefly.)

This Way Home

(C) R.L.K.

Near sunset, after
an April shower: the street
glistens; wind-shaken,
the leaves of the maple trees
spill raindrops on the sidewalk.

One of Those Long Walks

(C) R.L.K.

The warmth of this February day
surprises us. Reaching the top of a hill,
we pause to consider the way
the sun, angling out from the clouds will
throw light down on the grass and trees
as if it were the middle of
summer, as if trying to please
us, and for a while that is enough.

December Mood

(C) R.L.K.

Again the night comes,
sodden with winter. The light
from a streetlamp falls
on the old snow heaped beside
the curb. Clouds loiter above.

Time And Sentiment

(C) R.L.K.

Broken clouds float through
a pale blue sky. We're
into autumn now,
a sad old story:
cold winds, crumpled leaves
to come.
               But for now,
some warmth remains, and
all the young birch trees
beside the river
glimmer whitely in
the soft light of an
October morning.

Just This Morning

(C) R.L.K.

A pale sun over
the willows at the water's
edge; a wind so slow
it can't part leaf from leaf: so
faintly has this day begun.

It So Happens

(C) R.L.K.

Bright sunlight streams through
the gaps in a broken fence
after a hard rain;
from a nearby gnarled tree
a small bird begins to sing.