Wee Small Hours
A whistling wind, a
scatter of rain
Sounds of night on my window pane.
The Wake
Faces filled with
emotion and tears
Stories unraveled of yesteryears.
Pocket Money
Day
Noses pressed flat
on the window pane
Pockets tinkling full of brass.
Candlemas Day
Aconites gazing into
the sun
'neath catkins dangling, finely spun.
Sleepover
As November draws to
its close
the hedgehogs snuggle in dormant
