Minuet

Trees sway gracefully.
They nod and bend
up and down,
back and forth
to drumming thunder
rumbling
across a dull sky.
Minuet dancers
bobbing socially
to each other.

Dark green pine
wearing
brown cone corsages
lean close
to perky willow
holding tender lush buds.

Wide skirts
of pale poplar branches
swoosh
as they rise above
saplings,
excited to reveal
fresh, new
burgeoning leaves.

Wind skips lightly,
hip hopping
amongst the shrubs
to join the fun.

Elegant Mother Earth
blesses the affair
with a sprinkle
of rain
encouraging her
guests to show off
their finery.

Snowy owl watches,
perched on a weatherworn
barn,
her feathers only slightly
ruffled.

Momentum

A golf club,
I thought forgotten in the grass,
moved,
stopping me in my tracks.

A desert mistress appeared silently,
a flicker of light glinting off her scaly back.
She lay basking in the long, green golf course grass,
hidden off the fertilized fairway,
near a perfectly groomed sand trap.

My approach interrupted
her warm, sunny toasting reverie.
Momentarily our two worlds merged,
each assessing the other.

She had a strange beauty,
my curiosity piqued.
Dusty gray-brown skin hosted
mingling stripes, evolving to a distinctive
diamond shape marking, that ended with
a tail rattle held high.

She did not hiss or flick her rattle;
did not coil to strike.
She slithered and wound away,
slowly disappearing,
desert sand camouflage completely
absorbing her patterned body.

Tiny vibrations
were left in her wake,
flickering at my heart.