1
Mid March and I count four robins and a woodpecker
And yesterday I heard a cardinal in full voice.
No one knows how heavy the pages of winter are
But it is the birds that fly out of the last.
2
Nothing better than this anonymity.
All my observations are like a mirror
In which I can celebrate nature in myself.
3
Today the rain turned into snow
And back into rain so subtly
That no one seemed to notice
The fragile glass work of the moment.
Salvatore Ala 
really beautiful; ‘The fragile glass work of the moment.’ – wonderful line – shines its lights back up through the poem
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Thanks so much. Yes, that is how it seemed to me as well. I think when one learns the craft these daily observations take on their own form. Only took me sixty years to trust myself
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Hi Mark, I received a message which seems to have vanished. Something about another blogger who liked my comment and whose blog I should check out? What is the blog?
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