Monday, March 28, 2011

the peepers

The peepers sing,
in the dusk.
      Out of the mud,
       Their song drifts
        Sweet and green.

                                       -Kathleen Tenepas-

Actually, the month-long, haunting song of the peepers has ended, and I am missing it. But the girls find them skitting across the shallow creeks beds, ready to make acquaintance.

once again ...and even more frozen whiteness

  There is a wilder solitude in winter  When every sense is pricked alive and keen.         --May Sarton ("The House in Winter" A ...