“What does the lake feel?”
Emerald depth
cold weighed down resisting
dreaded ascension
Tag: autumn
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haiku: walking Fuzz
dead leaves rasp the street
smashed turtle at our feet—blood
caution—slow approach
respectful soft sniff
looking up to me—confused?
unable to speak
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Weather
“What is this weather in my soul?
This nameless weather:
Squirrel’s flag-tail pulsating
A silent, nil day.
Exceptional drought……
memory’s ceaseless loop roils;
turkey vultures soar.
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Spirea: Burning Bush
Scattered Spirea blaze reddish/gold,
flaming space-heater globes, warming
my brown garden iced by lethargic air.
If I lie naked among them could I thaw,
and seep to meld with nourished root
capillaries spiraling to a fruitful place
of spring stirrings and glorious blooms?
∞
Could I, in late March break ground,
a green sliver twisting to light only,
sated with discernment of all things,
yet ordained by the flow only to flow;
a Buddha sitting under The Tree of Life,
hands cupped, not in prayer, but empathy?
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September
The chickadee does his cling and swing around
the cones of timely opening bracts, the nuthatch
his deliberate descent down the chunky barked pine,
the arrogant jay loudly struts and flits about,
as in a panic, as if to say, “Something is coming,
something is coming!” But, that’s just his way.
Three days of rain washed heated, thicken air
to leave a cooled exhalation; an air thinner,
more amiable than summers overly sweet cordial.
A cathartic breeze rippled leaves, still green,
exciting them with anticipation of float flight,
of modeling the new season’s gaudy plumage,
of wind scurries that will tumble and rasp them
across their kin scrapping cellulose flesh away
to dry fragility…..each to its veined identity.
Belated Words 