Perhaps Forever

 From the Walks of September 14 and 15

Swishing cars outside--

Recognition of the rain

On their wet tires.

Sun has disappeared

Into the gray blue above;

Yellow leaves prevail.

A misty rain falls,

Covering and shining leaves;

Ticking on the leaves.

Small drops of water

Find long blades of green grass

To rest their liquid.

Playing in the trees

Drops of water never cease

Their endless rustling.

On the bald dead log

A bright green vine is winding;

(Knows nothing of death).

Glistening yellow

Leaves are polished by the rain.

It's their last hurrah.

On top of the leaf

Single drop of water hangs--

Perhaps forever.

The teasing bright sun

Runs in and out of the trees

Leaving me confused.

Are they weeds? Flower?

They have no taxonomy;

They just keep growing.

Tiny yellow blooms

Have taken up residence

In my hobo pot.

Reduced to a sign

Lost cat stares from a poster.

Is there anguish there?

Dancing while they're still

Shadows on the road keep time

To the sun's slow beat.

Multitude of blooms

Growing from a single plant;

Yet each one distinct.

Field of milk weed pods

Sitting in the morning sun

Waiting to burst free.

Bright waves of jewel weed

Glow orange from the road side--

Illumination.