Orange in the Green

Now the sun has hid,
Stopped its hide and seek with clouds.
Red chair still shines.

What manner of bird
Could drop such a grand turd?
(Glad I wasn't there.)


Now there is quacking--
The hen house a duck house too.
There's fowl play afoot.












Orange in the green;
Brown leaf on the mirrored stream.
Where is the sun now?









Poles against old barn
Seem like they are propping it up.
Does it need such help?

"Leaves in small fir
Are certainly out of place."
(By whose reckoning?)












The woods are darker
Without shadows from the sun.
There's just mystery.

Once my mind begins
Flowers, road, Fall disappear
Into obsession.