Picking Up Roots

Who

I stared hard
into the mirror
looking beneath
the salt and pepper,
past the sharp white hairs,
through the faded blue,
beneath the lines
of the laugh-aged face;

I stared hard
and I asked,
"who are you"

I'm still waiting
to live out
the answer

Weight

what is asked of us,
no more than we can take -
       will we take up its weight

Spring Snow

spring snow
weighs heavy upon 
the green bows
of pine trees,
a gray blanket covers the sky,
the distant waters
don't offer a ripple,

stillness surrounds

the last mourning cry
of winter
as it says goodbye