Conspiracies of Brown Leaves

Bright clear Autumn day
Green light pouring through the trees;
A car swishes past.

 

All is bright silence;
Even the birds are quiet;
The road beckons me.

 

 


Untouched wilderness
In a pot on my front porch;
Planted by no one.

Mowing the back lawn
There's no need for a machine.
Cow keeps on munching.

Where has my stream gone?
Lush green leaves hide it from me;
Just its shine remains.

On top of the trees,
Conspiracies of brown leaves
Plot to take over.

Heavy thistle droops
Under the weight of pod seeds
Before they take flight.

In front of the shack
Green wilderness emerges
To obscure it all.