Today's Count

Blue, cold, sharp air.  My yellow coat and blue jeans and red laces.  The sun, turning the frosted grass green, but not melting the snow flakes caught in the ice on the man made pond. Leaves race across the surface, clatter into groups to crow their winnings while small aquatic creatures made their singular progress, oblivious beneath the ice: long round, doing the breast stroke and little furry tadpoles look a likes snapping side to side to glide through the water, passing each other unconcerned.

today's count

Geese gone grey in a misted sky, a magpie heard but not seen above me, the heavy comforting silence of student empty paths, the distant call of construction trucks, water bomb droplets from passing elms, a chubby pocked snowman in the bowl, and the silent giants of memorial contemplation planted in 1967.