Renga For Ben

All night, a late snow
descends unseen, smothering
the young crocuses.

*

Gray-hulled clouds float east at dawn,
covering the meager sun.

*

My dog sniffs between
the slats of the wooden fence,
then points and listens.

*

A drifting scent of cedar
comes and goes with blowing snow.

*

Deep within the thorns
and the crimson barberries,
the small sparrow sleeps.

June 2015

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