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Sunday, August 28, 2016

Invisible Games


Coffee roster whirs,
Sends its smells into the air;
Autumn spice and warmth.



Leaves shake the sunlight;
Beyond them other leaves shake;
Beyond them, stillness.



Rubber band, dead squirrel--
Both lying still on the road;
Rubber band's not dead.


Distant shouts of kids
Float from the house on the hill;
Invisible games.


Back and forth he rides,
His wheels swooshing beneath him;
Back and forth he rides.


They've begun to fall
To make a winter carpet:
Brown leaves floating down.

It looks exhausted,
Ancient crumbling stone wall--
Divisions forgot.

From the tiny stump
Plethora of seedlings grow
The old begets new.


Saturday, August 27, 2016

Step Into Shadows


Leaves are transparent;
The sun's rays have become green--
Daily magic here.


Empty bird feeder
Has no pecking little birds.
(Doesn't have bird seed).


Olivia's butt
Is in the same position
Whenever she eats.


Three chairs and one swing
Empty of all occupants
Patiently waiting.


Solar heating sign
Obscured now by many plants--
(An irony here?)



Shadows on the road
Always the same--and different,
Like the road itself.


Graceful these leaves go,
Moving from green to yellow,
To brown and then gone.


The stream bed carries
Sunshine instead of water;
Doesn't look barren.


Step into shadows;
Blaze of hot sun disappears--
Just refreshing cool.


Friday, August 26, 2016

Pampas Rule the Day

Late autumn morning;
All is silent on the hill,
Save something whirring.

The lilac's last blooms
Have become brittle and brown.
Their scent has long fled.

 Lone dandelion
Grows archly on my front lawn;
(Doesn't care it's Fall)

It is almost gone,
The fence is disappearing:
Pampas rule the day.

Jewel weed cloaks the stream--
Bright tiny specks of orange
Glow and gleam softly.

Sunlight has vanished;
Grayness descends upon the road;
Brief mist-like rain falls.

Errant stump buddy
Has found a loving new friend
Who snuggles with him.

Playing hide and seek
Sun and clouds dance across sky
With dark and with light.

Thursday, August 25, 2016

Does Buddha Look Pissed?


Dead moth in my bowl--
It's a sign or an omen:
Put the bowl away.


Does Buddha look pissed
Sitting on junky table?
(Maybe it's just me).



How the green light shines,
Twinkling with the leaves it shakes;
Bowing so gently.


Two puff balls growing,
Fall apart in their softness;
Too late to eat them.


Susan's jungle grows;
Now the fence cannot be seen;
Will the house be next?

 Mooing through the trees,
Olivia watches me,
Then she moos again.

On the wire fence
Lonely bloom seems to be caught;
Just doing its thing.

Another mushroom
Grows in plain sight on my lawn;
(When did it arrive?)

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Home Again


Autumn radiance
Shining through the August leaves
Paints a clear green light.

 Barely a murmur
Of leaves trembling in the breeze
In morning commune.


Bright blue chicory
Guards the edge of the road
Trumpeting the Fall.


Time of the pampas
Shining silver on the road
Subduing the field.


Ready to disgorge
A mouthful of eager blooms:
Mother Queen Anne's Lace.


Billowing softness;
Whisper's distance from the road:
A bush of white clouds.


 With dedication
Olivia munches on;
The whole field is hers.

A form in the frame?
Or was it just a knocking?
Questions from the road.

Robins on the lawn
Moving with unusual haste--
Hop, peck, back and forth.

It's almost noon now,
Wednesday morning is finished--

Munching their shadows:
Olivia and Collette
Always consuming.

Roaring in shadows
Metal beasts devours woods;
Trees become sawdust.

Grass taking over;
There's no car and no people--
The abandoned house.

Flashes of green light
Cut across the forest floor--


Waiting and equipped
Trampoline stands in tension;
No jumping bodies.


Field of goldenrod
Lights up the sleepy road
Whispering "awake"!