Half-dozen Mud cakes

Back to wood

decks, quarter-size spiders, webs, moss 

and creatures stirring in the hollow

nights

Back to no

side-walks and skirting into the duff

or mud when cars and trucks pass

close-by

Back to walking

in the woods, again, sheltered 

from the horizon and its deep-wide

glistening

Ends of days

In so many ways

I thought I would 

Never

Be back

It all seems

to stay the same

Except I

Must leave again...

And then again

If I never left

I would never be

Back. 

Painting by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, 'Combing' c. 1891 in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Another Autumn Awaits

 

Falling comes naturally

as common as fear 

another body

knocked down-

Learning how to climb

up to the canopy 

out of the arbor awnings

each branch a rung

bell 

a ladder 

has no top

The horizon awaits this distant gaze

further than 

a crow flies 

an escape 

too far to grasp, too afraid to take

it all in

to begin again

asking...

What is more

No-

body needs to learn

anything except 

landing 

softly

before rising again

with an icy wind

at knifepoint

only to return 

home, rootbound

thirsting 

for more.

Artwork by Ellen Thayer Fisher, 'Fall leaves and Acrons' c. 1885 in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

absorption

The storm was done
and so it fell
into a fine mist

of crystals spent
in shards or more
mineral.

The after taste
of iron
smells like the steel sky
blowing by

or coming
from my mouth
in thin whispers...








Painting by Arthur Partin (1842-1914), 'Misty Morning off the Coast of Maine', c. 1865-67, in Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons.