Fractals Photos Poetry Prose Watercolor

Thursday, March 22, 2007

What Janus Sees

Pocked by nimble hooves
five o’clock stubble clings,
stubborn in wind-chilled sun.
One six-pack of scrub jays
scatters the silence
tepid spring forces its way
upon the barren brow
defined by seasoned gray.

sketch by Turner

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Anonymous said...

I love this one! I want it above my sink where I hang my pots. Can you do that?

Tumblewords: said...

Thank you! Sure, that's a doable project!

Q said...

Dear Tumblewords,
I enjoy reading your poems so very much. I come often and read them over and over again. Each time I have a different experience. Today I hear the call of the Scrub Jays.
Thank you.