Snow Serenely Falls

Snow serenely falls

Aspen leaves moan

In late Spring storm
Coats in beauty's purity

All hidden beneath the blanket

A ravenous loose covering multitude of sin
No longer exposed to all that's been
New day of joy's consummation

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet. (17-138A)

Blossoms Fall

      Blossoms Fall

Water playfully drips
Snow melts
Heavy snow
Falls from trees

Meadowlarks joyfully sing
Sounds of life
Entwined together
Stop and observe

Lilacs laden with snow
Purple contrasting white
Short bursts
Vibrant colors

Wind and warmth shakes
Leaves and branches clean
Soon beauty's damage
Revealed as blossoms fall

Video is of the Spring snow melting today as bushes are starting to bloom. A typical high plains Spring.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet. (17-119A)

Snow Silently Floats

Snow Silently Floats

Silently snow floats
First snowfall of season
Western Nebraska's white coat
Beauty beyond reason

Hush hugs dormant things
Huddled herd finds shelter together
Fluffy whiteness to hide clings
Cool touch soft as feather

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
(16-322B)

March Snow

                           March Snow

Familiar sense when walk out doors to a March snow,
Drawn back in time to teenager.
Something about the look, smell, and beauty of youth,
Pulls a youngness to the surface.

Contrasts all around,
Green of grass pierces snow.
Disked fields, chocolate cake with thin vanilla frosting,
Snow melts rapidly.

Gray sky soon to give way,
Anticipation of sun bursting through.
Doves perched together cooing,
Horses neighing, acknowledging me.

Quietness of non-mechanical,
Only sounds are of living things.
Trees resisting the wind,
Footsteps on gravel.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Image from this morning in Western Nebraska.

Old Red Tractor

                      Old Red Tractor

In the predawn darkness ether snorts into the engine's nostrils,
Slow grind of starter as tractor belches.
Coldness resisting the desire to start,
Yet ether is a powerful drug for diesel.

Finally spark catches and rumble starts,
Cold hydraulics whine as cold blood shoots through the system.
As move the whine decreases,
Lowering the blade to move snow.

Driveway covered in seven inches,
Giving way to the red tractor's 60 horses.
Pushing piles of snow out of the way,
Brisk air brushes face, no cab to numb winter.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Image is of our 40 year old International tractor.