Fake Resurrection

Walks from November 8-12, 2017

Blue-jays race and caw

Flying, shrieking angrily;

Then, there's just their sound.

My first day at home

And my worries returning. 

Happy for my walk.

In front of Buddha

A spider has caught a leaf

And left it hanging.

As white as a ghost

Phantom mushroom sits alone

In November soil.

Collette is eating;

Olivia in shadows;

Each in their own world.

Shadows in the woods;

Dark lines falling on dead leaves--

November portent.

Obliterated:

Road sign hidden by dirt, age

Will just be a shape.

Pine cones on the road

Distinguished by their shadows;

Buzz saw in the woods.

November 9, 2017

Bright sunlit morning;

I remember that I'm home;

Dark shadows are still.

Coffee roaster stopped;

The house is filling with silence;

Fridge runs and then stops.

Two cows are standing

Like statues in their front lawn,

Enjoying the sun.

Trembling in breeze--

Timothy glows in sunlight--

Autumn excitement.

Two leaves suspended

As they're falling to the ground,

Pause for a photo.

The ancient stream bed

Contains only dead leaves now

(And an old beer can).

Leaves hang suspended

In the bushes where they fell--

Fake resurrection.

Door to the basement

Just an empty opening:

Portal to darkness.

November 11, 2017

It's so very cold;

I still have yet to go out.

Sun in winter mode.

Twinkle in the leaves--

Sun's smiling through the branches

Welcoming me out.

Staring into space

Olivia munches grass.

(Meditative cow?)

Forsythia leaves

Have lost their former splendor.

(Pampas plants still glow.)

Stretching cross the creek

Two logs joining together

Create their own bridge.

Winding forest path

Unworn by feet of humans;

Carved by dark shadows.

Proudly posing goat

Shines in the light of the sun--

A golden creature!

November 12, 2017

Black dots in the green;

Birds moving in the bushes;

Check for food--then leave.

Squirrel runs down tree trunk,

Then merges into brown-gray.

(Was it ever there?)

Limbs stretched gracefully:

Slender tree branch on the road,

Poised like a dancer.

From both directions--

Walkers on the road today.

It's a sunny morn.

Single dead leaf hangs

In forest of bare branches;

It waits for the wind.

If the sun is right

And the earth cooperative

Even dead leaves glow.

Venerably gray,

Guarding the gate to the house--

Two pampas clusters.

Seems like he's crying--

More a search than a message

This wandering crow.