Eve

 

Instead

of what the year brings

what do I

bring

if I open

my eyes

and begin to see

again

the new

the nearly

the nuanced

the next?

On the margins

 

On the margins

of the river

in ditches

and the shadowy

places

on the north side

snow lingers

dirty lace

that clouds

mimic

in ragged strips

in the bluest

sky

Day moon

 

Is this

day moon

my mood

lurking

usually

well hidden

unremarked

and unremarkable

until

I see it

feel it

where it shouldn't be

where it always is

December Snow

December snow

welcomed

with wonder

stretching

to catch

in mittened hands

savored

on tip of the tongue

smiling lips

lifted

for the damp kiss

of feather

flakes

 

Winter watchers

 

As a girl

I learned

to name them

by their leaves

Now I play

a new game

looking for clues

in the snow

walnuts

and helicopter seeds

I know the

capillary anatomy

of the oak

and the twiggy broom

of basswood

The wine-red branches

of the crabtrees

The eyes of the aspen

are watching

warily

and high

in the clouds

a hawk cries

Flurry

 

Flakes

flutter

fragile

flurry

20 days til Solstice

 

I take comfort

in the approach

of the longest night

For

even though winter

has yet to begin

and the longest day

is long to come

after Solstice

light

slowly

slowly

returns

Out the Window 11/30

The sky-sea

surges

wind-waves

breaking

against

the indigo

horizon-shore

 

November Between

 

Everything

is slumping

dried up

and decaying

The weather

caught

in a strange loop

of cold

then mild

The bare ground

still green

but every tree

is bare

and the shadows

are long

in the rosy twilight

simmering

to early

evening

Love letters

Autumn's

love letters

are scarlet

not hearts

but hands

once open

to the sun's rays

now curled

to accept

the first snows

 

Keepsakes

 

Not

what can be held

in my hand

hoarded

too soon forgotten

but what

was etched in my heart

as delicately scrolled

as the ripples

in the water

and the clouds.

Found

Found:

Ombre feather

scarlet leaf

and

to my surprise

my summer self

who has

perhaps

been rambling

while I kept

busy busy busy

estranged

from each moment's

brief

beauty

 

Fleeing

 

The feeling

that the season

is fleeing

blown away

before I've even

had a chance

to breathe in

the dry, crackling

smell

of falling leaves

Though

it will be autumn

again

and again

this autumn

will

be winter

bare and white

before I know it

Golden

 

The hour

the afternoon

the month

of gold

Dickinson's blazing gold

Frost's fleeting gold

3

Dickinson

Frost

        

After

 

After

the day's deluge

gulls gather

in spontaneous ponds

where ducks

forage

bottoms up

At the dam

a mink

scampers

slipping

between rocks

to catch

a fish

struggling

in still

low water

2

Ready and waiting

The trees

look ready

for the change

leaves rustling

with dry whispers

edges curling

some

transitioning

from green

to gold and crimson

A few

snatched

by a stiff breeze

One last afternoon

of summer heat

then

maybe

finally

fall

1

 

Wish (18)

 

Wishing

for fall

the cool air

scented

with leaves

and harvest

the colors

the frost

A season

so fleeting

In a blink

bare trees

and snow

Kind (17)

 

The ancient words

the ones

that murmur up

from the gut

or the back of the throat

where the heart

climbs

seeking

to voice

comfort

community

kin

kind

Growing (16)

 

In memory's garden

images of peace

are growing

under the cool shadows

of pine trees

that have stood straight

decades

perhaps

a century

Big Sky (15)

 

This big sky

makes me feel

small

too small

to hold up the world

which isn't really

my job

is it?

Divine (14)

 

The trees

lift open palms

of color

to the sky

I'll join

their prayer

of thanks

and

praise

Labyrinth (13)

 

A mountain

we climb

A valley

we descend

A river

rushing

over rocks

then spilling

to stillness

A labyrinth

we walk

our steps

prayers

we move

from center

to border

and back

Endlessly

tracing

the path

of our griefs

Beyond (12)

 

Beyond

the glass

muted summer

simmers

Here and there

a leaf begins

to turn

and the light

has the slant

of coming fall

Farewell (11)

 

Summer

leaves

a handful

of momentos

A few bright blossoms

amid

the rattling

remains

of fading flowers

Familiar (10)

 

Fondly

familiar

these trees

the September light

the fanciful

cloud shapes

the quiet sounds

of a nearly fall

afternoon

Windows (9)

 

Grateful

for the view

the sky

the cloud islands

the trees

swaying

in a wind

silent behind

the glass

I can only imagine

the breeze

Is it warm

or tinged

with autumn's coming chill?

Landscapes (8)

 

Memory's

landscapes

return

with the seasons

the rows of corn

the whispering leaves

the turning road

the smell

of burning

Travel (7)

 

The time

between

leaving

and arriving

the movement

the turns

the green blur

with flashes

of flame red summac

the river bottom

the soaring eagle

the familiar road

the last mile

the return

Whisper (6)

 

The leaves

whisper

autumn

a tale

I'm ready

to hear

as the afternoon

slips

slowly

into evening

6

Maybe

 

Maybe

the day

the week

the year

was long

The sun

never showed

And it rained

But

there was laughter

and purpose

and a neighbor

came with a gift

lemon-scented

and bright as the sun

and there was rest

Maybe

tomorrow

the sun

will shine

5

Hints

 

The first hints

of season's end

a turning leaf

a cloudy day

evening's approach

dawn's retreat

4

Forest

 

If I could fly

I would

find

a forest

to nest in

deep in green

entwined in roots

sheltered in shadows

serene

solitary

silent

3

Dawn

 

Dawn

remembers

nothing

Her night

was not disturbed

with dreams

or hours

of ceiling-contemplation

ennumerating wrongs

mine and yours

No aches

plague her rising

There is no wrong side

of the bed

Nor

is there oversleeping

or fruitlessly hitting the snooze

Lady Sun rises

full of color

quiet

and promises

Her new

can be mine

every morning

2

Gulls

 

The afternoon sky

is momentarily

filled

with gulls

Congregating

in empty parking lots

they always seem

a bit cheeky

Their walk a hurried

strut

Heads cocked

to present a sharp eye

But on the wing

they glide

catching a current

and drifting

1

Enough time

Why tomorrow

Why not

today

Be mindful

Evening

creeps in sooner

than it did

last week

last month

Light lingers

on evening's edges

Enough light

for a moment's

contemplation

Enough day

for doing

You don't need to make

enough time

There is

enough time

if you take it

Which

 

Whisper

wind or water

or words

Hum

or hymn

Flowers

or faces

Paths

or prayers

Haze

A smoky pall

hangs

over morning

dregs

of a bad dream

I fear

will return

to haunt

restless nights

ahead

Where

is the wind

to blow away

this malaise

to fill our sails

and propel us

to calmer

seas?

 

Seeds

 

The bloom

has fallen

revealing

a trove

of tiny treasures

that I will hoard

until spring

Languishing

 

Summer sulks

under hazy skies

blooms fading

and blown

The river

is low

and the landscape

thirsty

Long way

from

spring rains

Long time

until

seasons change