Day begins and now the light is bright where I often write. I hear Lake Michigan, no other sounds at the moment.
in some ways
the view does not change
evergreens
Post from POEMS FROM OOSTBURG, WISCONSIN
Day begins and now the light is bright where I often write. I hear Lake Michigan, no other sounds at the moment.
in some ways
the view does not change
evergreens
Post from POEMS FROM OOSTBURG, WISCONSIN
I remember when the daylilies and hosta bloomed. Not so long ago.
How the yard can be full of perennial colors at their times in the seasons.
Then something small adds so much at another time.
November grey
red holiday bow
on the wreath
Ellen Grace Olinger
Kitchen Window
Post from POEMS FROM OOSTBURG, WISCONSIN