Waiting to Crackle

Crackle of Autumn,
In the dry leaves on the road,
In the spicy air.












In the lazy sun
Stella stretches with eyes closed.
"I am here," she says.

Some half naked trees
Point their fingers at the sky.
Others are blushing.












A blanket of leaves
Curls up the winding driveway
Waiting to crackle.












Deep in the forest
Random spotlights of sunshine
Radiate brilliance.

First week of Autumn--
A buzz and then a tickle.
Last mosquito bite?

Waving in the wind
Small asters and goldenrod
Dancing together.

Oozing from the trunk,
Fungus tree monster looks out.
A clever disguise.

Delicately Suspended

Hanging in mid air,
Delicately suspended,
A tiny brown leaf.










There's an agreement
Between the clouds and the sun
To breed a soft day.












Sometimes the shadows
Splashed upon the winding road
Soften the concrete.












Below the surface
A flat stone shivers softly
As the water flows.











Lightly on the fence
Spray of white and yellow blooms;
Some new and some old.


Lightly she walks,
Silver thinning hair shining;
Kissed by the sunlight.











Faint chime melody
Carried by the passing breeze
Dissolves quietly.

Small white butterfly
Floats higher toward the tree top
Melting into the clouds.

I Need a Refill

She drinks the coffee
With such a delicacy
That I long for youth.

The rain from last night
Forms mirrors on the railing--
Dark bushes look up.

In the car's back seat
A child is sleeping alone;
There is no danger.

Beyond all vision,
Birds chirp with irritation--
Cacophony of crows.












More leaves have been trapped
In unwitting spider's web.
A falling of Fall.

My pen does not write.
Are my thoughts also empty?
I need a refill.

Floating,Slicing Down

Red chair on the lawn;
My friend was there yesterday.
Today she is gone.









Sharp morning shadows
Conceal the hanging swing
Which no children climb.












Why does that cock crow?
What is he really saying?
(Or just mouthing off?)












Shadows guard the road
That wanders mysterious
Towards an unseen house.









Beyond the shadows
Bike reclines upon the lawn.
Perfect inertia.













By the dead tree stump;
On the decomposing log;
Vibrant green life springs.



A swirl of brown leaves
Bursts into the breezy air
Floating, slicing, down.









Dead squirrel on the road;
Gust of wind ruffles its tail--
Illusion of life.

Opening Nowhere

Shadows flickering
Shimmering on the table
Beckon me outside.

Chill is in the air;
A cool wind blows up the road
To rustle my hair.












Flowers in the shade
Seem to grow more quietly
With little fanfare.

Mirrors off the road
Shiver in the passing wind;
Just faintly liquid.












Closest to the sun,
Leaves shimmer in the tree tops,
But they don't fall yet.


In the darkened woods
Phantom tea party still stands,
Spot lit by the sun.











Creaking in the woods:
It's an invisible door
Opening nowhere.

Sharp rustle of leaves--
Unseen creature runs from me.
Fear hangs in the air.

Underneath the Sky

Shadow patches come
Splashed upon the cloudy road,
Disrupting the gray.









Hens, goat and a cow--
It's just the morning breakfast
Underneath the sky.

Orange on yellow--
Butterfly on goldenrod.
A bee buzzes past.

Shouting up the road
Two bellowing voices
And one missing dog.









Gently falling leaf
Touches the ground noiselessly;
Melts into others.










Sparkles on the web:
Spider caught the morning dew;
Soon sun will free it.

Drawing from the trunk
Beige mushrooms mirror the tree--
Mockery of death.

Hobbled and broken,
Old mailbox bows to the ground;
Correspondence done.

What Does the Sun Know?

How bright the sun shines
As it did nine years ago.
What does the sun know?

Cow in the shadows
Watches the wandering hen--
Curiosity.







Cock crows at the sun;
Crows bark beyond the tree line;
Squirrel runs through shadows.

By side of the road
Pickup truck becomes statue.
Grass higher than wheels.










How tiny the buds;
How delicate the blossoms;
How gentle the sun.

Rustling on the road;
Where is it coming from?
Oh! It's from my shirt.


It's always the same--
The bend around the corner.
(This time it's different).









Beige blur on the road--
Tiny turtle makes its way
With purpose and goal.

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.