A bower for sleeping bees,
the ground begs softly
beneath the burning trees
to foster cotyledons
and change the canyon green.
No cars on the road,
silence weighs heavily,
not a bird or bull’s bawl
to claim the open space
that’s come alive.
The gray sky witness
floats in a cloud-fog
damp and undemanding
as the long pause of winter
moves into a new beginning.
drycrikjournal 
Beautiful poem, John. This passage especially resonates “…the long pause of winter
moves into a new beginning.” Wishing you and Robin and yours Merry Christmas and many happy New beginnings in the coming new year.
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Thanks, Babsje, nothing like a nice slow rain to change things as the sycamores give up and the grass takes over.
Merry Christmas and thank you for following along.
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Beautiful!
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