The Wind Calls the Tune

Old faded marker
Sprouts up now from the dead leaves.
Fall exposes all.

Strong wind moves the clouds;
Sun casts shadows on the house;
Then the gray returns.

Sun and clouds play tag--
Flashes of light and grayness.
The wind calls the tune.

The house is for rent;
The windows stare vacantly;
Jumping dog is gone.

The scooter has moved;
It lies close to the road.
Will it ride away?










Wind is all about
Booming echoes through the woods,
Shaking leaves and trees.

Last year stump was king;
Surrounded by tiny pines.
Now they eclipse it.












Blowing randomly
Wind speeds leaves across road;
Then it retreats.

Pointing to the sky,
The dead limbs silhouetted.
What do they foretell?

In little thin branches
The falling log is captured
To hang suspended.

Abandoned bird's nest
Flanked by purple berry clumps
In mass of brambles.