__I am the splash that missed this funnel's gaping mouth; free, and not locked into this bottle of someone elses preset rules, I trickle down this glassn' side, and evaporate into my own adventure.

a free drop
travels its chosen path
the bird flys 

__This is a recent comment left at a site I visit often, Tinywords;  the lantern on that caboose,  is the last viewpoint of this night's train. _m


the last train
leaves a darkened depot
its lantern

__A sound aroused me last night, and my "newly awakened" thought was that, that clamor was the thunder of a summer storm.  Reality quickly recovered,  the thunder was the rumble of a distant snowplow. 

thunder storm
rumbles through this night
snowplows 

Each day another chance,  another turn of the key.

on time
its pendulum still swings
the key 

__On and under the feeders, the snowbirds flit; black birds seem,  as punctuation in the snow.

juncos frolic
in this fresh fallen snow
dashes 

__Each sunrise, an addition to your larder. _m

a new day
adds to the chimes
open diary
 

__Oooo!  Troublesome near and on the Cape; we were home before the problems. I so often think that >snow is a smaller problem< then some of the drivers.  

new snow
floats through this quiet night
train whistle