Short Woodsmoke Poems

Vital fluids slowly drip
into the bucket below.
Caught in 
black and white landscape
of trees, snow and shadow
in the early dawn.
our breath forms clouds
but breathing in 
we smell woodsmoke
and new maple syrup.
Surely the sweetest 
sign of spring....

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Ode to Tofitian Rain


What is in Tofino rain
that makes it smell so sweet?
A blend of berries, a certain strain
of sea salt, fog and peat

it smells of woodsmoke, tangy fir
and kelp washed up on shore
it smells of bitter evergreen
and dampened black bear fur,
blackberry wine that I just poured
and roasted coffee bean

it smells of maple, honeycomb
it smells of earth
it smells like home....

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Last night's grief was filled with a serene dawn.
Woodsmoke and scalded spices flood the air.
The darkened sunlight disclaims treads the lawn.
Last night's grief was filled with a serene dawn.
Its frail hand yet brings in a shift of fawn.
A dream, like a toenail, is a brief dare.
Last night's grief was filled with a serene dawn.
Woodsmoke and scalded spices flood the air.

Written: February 26, 2023...

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Vital fluids drip
            into the bucket
        below.
Corn snow underfoot
        a stark landscape
              black and white
          trees, snow and
        shadow.
In the early dawn
     our breath clouds
              and the air
                   smells of
              woodsmoke 
      and new maple 
syrup.
Surely 
         the sweetest 
                   sign of spring!
.
______________________

A new month, won't be long now....

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Gliding down amber, leaf strewn lanes
Her wild hair flowing in golden tones
Goddess of Autumn awakens again
To soothe the sound of Winter’s pain

She lingers in woodsmoke of promises made
Where trees are shedding their Summer shade
She paints their green with a crimson tinge
Beside oaks that stand all acorn-ringed

Her voice is whispering in every glade
Her frosty eyes and spicy smile
Her ragged, leaf brown rustling gown 
Her brisk, bright essence floating down
...

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It was  in  Autumn 's signature
the smell of burning leaves
that I succumbed to 
distant drums
And bartered to believe.

Woodsmoke circled round 
and round
to show your misty form
you kissed my face
with love and grace
and told me not to grieve .

Upon the hill a wolf pack
howled out  my secret name
I shaped replies
in cryptic cries
and begged you not to leave.

You are the wind in winter
I am the Summer sky
the pain is sweet
we never meet
except in dreams we weave....

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