Winter is now here

What was once blooming and ripe

Now dry and brittle

 There've been larger days

When more was gained or forfeit

But none more peaceful

 A thin line of life

Betrodden on the hillside

By javelinas

 When the night takes me

May it be a moonless sky

Lit by trembling stars

 Woke up this mornin'

Blues is about what is left

After what is lost

 Hear the crickets sing

When the night is warm and close

And birds are quiet

 Thanks is not enough

Nor the expression of love

For family's grace

Leave no day unclaimed

Or memory forsaken

Now bestows the past

None of us will know

Creatures that lived in the shells

Covered by the tides

He held to the hope

Like a limpet clinging to a rock

Crashed by waves of doubt

I have to wonder

Who can thrive without the wild

Or dance with no song 

 The sun in autumn

Barely kisses November

Sending a warm chill

Without objection

Night concedes to a new dawn

And waits 'til twilight

 Hear November sing

The wind through Ponderosas

Whirring a cold song

I join great spaces

The mountains and their forests

I am kin with them

 Political lines

Separate people and lands

Invisible walls

 For Willie

Making you a wish

As glad as flowers for sun

 Rejoice this birthday!

 I'm too far away

I cannot smell the forest

Or taste the thin air

What savvy they have

The capacity of dogs

To tell without words

 All darkness in there

Without a door or window

One way to get out

The priceless secret

Your life's inscrutable span

Cannot be appraised

 The sign is cardboard

She searches for eye contact

Anything will help

 Slim Jimmy Walker

Singin' blues about last night

Hopin' she'll come home

 A blood moon rises

Like a ruddy-faced farmer

Watching over crops

 A purple button

Left by a crow on the rail

As thanks for some corn

 There's a perception

That all is solid and clear

Then awakening

 Rage has two faces

 The haughty simper of pride

And greed's  joyless scowl

 Agreeable quail

Nod as they scurry away

Swift and certainly

There is a thin veil

Between belief and trueness

That's easily torn

Dia de los Muertos

Remnants in all folk

Auspices of those before

Why we praise this day