A Walk in the Woods

Six times I’ve seen the unfolding
of the juneberries along this way.
Every time, they change.

Some are filled with white candles;
others have less to offer
(at least, this time around).

Breathe in the air from the budding trees;
this world no longer sleeps.
A dry leaf flies up from the forest floor.

The sunning snake warms
among blossoms well sedged,
white and tinted pink.

The queen bumblebees
provision their nests
ignoring my slow steps
towards the fallen oak
that blocks my path.