Tag Archives: seasons

a walk in the years


on cool air, pumpkins are hauled from the fields
stalks, dried and withered, rustle in the breeze
yellow spreads through the treetops of the tallest oaks
i build an evening fire when wind-chill becomes a factor
under crisp skies, pink rivulets stretch from the sunset

since adulthood, i know what happens next
the familiar routine becomes a psychological battle
the rush of familiar faces say hello but refuse to delve deeper
possibly, there are dangerous ideas hiding behind countenance
i smell chlorine seeping from under the correctional center door

once throwing a football in dead leaves, a childhood flashes by
reality is an old man, memories draining—unable to stem the flow
wishing i had written down observations of an earlier time

creating pictures is something i should have done a long time ago
training the eye/hand with a yearning to print pictures in black ink
and a want to render body parts coming out of objects

the ocean temperature steadily drops and the beaches are abandon
stuck in time for two million years, the sturgeon is found dead
it’s spiny body, washed-up on dawn’s gray shore
extending further than my prehistoric grasp
the walk has taken me outside the minutia of the day
in puzzled fascination—to the realization of a grand picture

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summer sleeps

published on VerseWrights 01/21/15

on cold gray water
,unable to create,
with their beaks
under wings

broken trees
moss and
the dried blood
at night
when the houses
become silent
and flashing
windows go dark

children are
in the ways of
the choking deer

eternal winter

eastern woodlands
two hearts
in silence

in the meadow
a singular
sea of
dead leaves
rusting cars,
that dream
into the ground

of ancient people
and summer eves

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summer inhales winter

magnolia whispering solace
outside the open window
drift on lazy scented air

the ground heats up
earthworms feed
and oak tassels
are born again and again

diligent insects
paper-winged dandelions
covet cool tile shade

the air moves freely
across the rhythmic spin
ceiling fan pronouncements

squirrels and robins
dream of ripe figs
in a world without cats

a child carried ‘round
the rise and fall of noon
with legs dangling

warm southern swells
return to caress
eating cold pasta salad

vinegar soaked artichokes
imbibing amber ale
out of pint glasses

fading eyesight discovers
the enemy of humanity
feeds the green earth

“you are here”
in a spiral arm
safely cradled

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