As If Nothing's Changed

Gray September morn;
Soft light glistens on the road.
A gentle breeze blows.

Tiny yellow light--
Soft beacon glows in the brush--
It's butter-and-eggs.









Crow caws in the sky,
Unseen against the slate white.
Bugs buzz in my ear.











Moss on lichen rock:
Two soft shades of green on stone--
Coexisting forms.









Woods without shadows--
Shiny dead leaves coat the ground..
Sudden stillness falls.

In all directions
They bend and dip--yellow ferns
(An oxymoron)

Yellow and brown tipped
Maple leaves hang from branches
As if nothing's changed.









A metal mantis
Preys upon some flying lines--
Its red head bobbing.