ant5

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trees in the fog

hold strands of dawn

in their tips

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winter fly misses

the daffodils

again

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your clothes

on the chair have

a language too

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the leafless pear

betrays thick coils

of blackberry

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the pig and the hen

keep their distance

in the mud

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morning fog

the hazelnut trees

make lichen

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winter quince

enough for

the birds

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on the flagstones

a slick silver

residue of fog

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she cajoles

the hesitant

lentils

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you slow down

for the camouflaged

pigs

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