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Monday, October 27, 2008

Misty Gray Morning


Misty gray morning;
Dog barks forlorn and weary;
Kids swing round and round.

No balloons left now;
Party's been over for months;
The field is empty.

There are no shadows;
Layers of clouds hide the sun;
Colors are muted.

Tiny white lichen
Sprout from the bark of the tree;
So easy to miss.











Poised like a statue
Squirrel sits on a slanted log--
Defies gravity.









Now the leaves have gone--

Giant bird's nest is revealed;
There is no one home.

Still guarding the house
The kitty closes her eyes:
"There's no danger here."








Single rain drop falls;
Trillion others are waiting.
Will be their turn soon.

Milkweed pods swaying,
Precarious over stream;
They'll be swept away.



Sunday, October 26, 2008

Morning After Rain


Morning after rain;
Reflections in the puddles;
Shiny orange leaves.










Basking in the shade,
The tabby cat licks herself:
"Might as well sit here."












Sparkled by the sun
Swollen streams tumble onward
Swirling, swishing, swift.










Observing the road
The old rock opens its mouth
In frozen wonder.

Pine needles glisten
On the edge of the forest
Where the sun can reach.












Sharp morning shadows
Carve out the ancient tree stump
With a sculptor's hand

Moss on the flat rock--
A blanket of green softness
Against winter cold.

Hard to catch a bird;
They don't seem to like cameras
And just won't sit still.












Two thin climbing vines
Ascend the tall thick tree trunk
On their way to the sky.



Thursday, October 23, 2008

Fall Geometry


Brown among the green;
White goats nibble the dead leaves;
Sky is crystal blue.

She casts a sly eye:
The fat white hen stops to look;
I'm too big to peck.








Cascade of mushrooms

Pour over the dead tree stump;
Nourishing decay.

Shadow on the lawn
With dimension and texture:
Witch's silhouette?

Linear shadows--
The trees have very few leaves.
Fall geometry.









Woodpecker rattles
Like little fingers drumming;
Must be a small one.

How quickly they change--
The bright white mushrooms of fall;
Autumn chameleons.

I left my journey,
Disappeared into my mind,
Came back with a jolt.




Wednesday, October 22, 2008

The Dead Leaves Gather


You can't see the grass;
Leaves cover all hints of green;
Pine cones on the road




Stripped of all their leaves

Spider branches grasp the sky.
Smell of burning wood.






Scraping in the woods
Chicken bob, peck, duck and chatter

Always satisfied.


She carries a bag,
The old lady with the leaves;
Pours them on the ground.

Reclining dead log,
Now a host for living things,
Verdant in the woods.

In the cracked tree stump
Pine needles, moss and darkness--
Forest mystery.







On the the thin tree limb
Translucent leaves still hold on
As if they're confused.



The dead leaves gather
In tree crotch, stump and on stone;
Wherever they're caught.









Shiny black berries
Hang from the bare bramble bush.
They do not tempt me.










Visor in the bush
Stuck firmly in the brambles.
How did it get there?




Sunday, October 19, 2008

Pulled By Unseen Hands



Faint in the blue sky
Moon presides over morning;
Distant honking geese.









Blowing in the wind
--
Clothes hung on the outside line
Picking up sunshine.


Black, brown and fuzzy--
Caterpillar on the road
Just makes it across.










The tree is broken
Sundered sharply by the wind;
Does not faze fungus.

Leaf falls to the ground,
Rasps lightly across the road.
Its moment of sound.

Pooch buddies are back;
Old one barks out of habit.
What else can he do?












Lush, round, soft and smooth
Fungi grow on the rough bark;
Opposites joining.

Slicing through the air
Dry leaves bob and weave like kites
Pulled by unseen hands.




Saturday, October 18, 2008

Resisting the Wind


The tree is yellow;
Dry leaves rasp along the road;
A chilly wind blows.










They are more like wood--
Hanging, curled up, dry brown leaves.
Returning to source.

There is one leaf left,
Desiccated on the branch,
Resisting the wind.

Nestled in the pine:
Dry leaves among green needles;
Mixing of seasons.











Gray and delicate
Old wasp's nest lies abandoned;
High above, crow caws.

Large splash on the road--
Small puddles of thrown coffee;
A jolt for the deer?

Ferns begin to change
From vital green to pale beige.
Gray car races past.

Tree tops trembling
As the the wind rustles the leaves
Sending them downward.

Bright orange berries,
Just in time for Halloween;
Witches in the woods.








Last black eyed Susan
Still smiles at the rising sun
As long as she can.

Friday, October 17, 2008


School bus rounds corner,
Faces unseen in windows.

It could be empty.

Crisp pile of firewood
Lies in cool October sun,
Waiting to give warmth.

Old blue bandanna
Lies neatly on the dead leaves
(Which need no cover).









The curtains are drawn;
The barn is quiet and still;
One bulb burns inside.

A card in the road
Says it will do construction.
Leaves will cover it.









My toes are freezing;
My finger tips are tingling.
Still I wear sandals?

Stopping in the woods
I happily take a pee.
Do leaves think it's rain?


The sunny hillside--
Deer stops to look up at me
Or just knows that I'm there

The house is empty
Still, old cat sits on the porch.
Some creatures don't move.

Orange reflector
Has it's moment of union
With the orange leaves.

Shriveled dark and dry
Leaves have withered on the stalk.
No echo of green.