Field in Autumn

Field of dirt and mowed green grass
Wooden fence squares it round
Flowing creek trickles past
Begone times beneath this ground

Chilly airs brush my cheeks
Swaying poplars play a tune
Wind pushes leaves off their anchors
Golden snowflakes falling down

White pines tower bend and bow
Mirroring their cousin poplars
Needles whoosh quickly falling
Bed of brown upon the loam

Trees now skeletons for a season
Blood flows slowly almost halts
Leaves and needles feed the soil
Awaiting life 'til warm winds blow


november, 2013

Web Weavers

Intricate design
Appears in morning
Having been spun
Throughout the night

Catching six-leggers
Tasty meals
Or wrap in silk
For later

Salutations
Announcing
Autumn
Just beyond the horizon

Turtle Eyes

Take me back
to a time
of
simplicity
if
ever such a time
existed

Floating
in salty fluid
warmth
rhythmic beat
sway
rock

Security
if it exists
is invisible
yet
sustains

Invisible
to the human
eye
but
maybe
another's eyes
can see

Who knows
what the aged
turtle
thinks
sees
feels

If a turtle
can feel

The planets hang
in invisible space
in their orbits'
lanes

There must be more
to
life
than meets
the
eye