Seasonal :

Now,
there's some new grass up,
where there used to be dirt.

The Old tree,
in front,
tells a new tale;
leaning,
in its top-most branches,
and,
budding further away
from its Winter lashings.

Later,
I sit in my tee-shirt sleeves,
praising the warmth on my face;
writing of the ripples upon water,
or,
the stories, within circles,
within
trees.

`x~William. copyright~06/17/09.