Vampires - bats - leeches!

Enough to cause you nightmares

How sanguiverous!

 A naked canvas

Line and light - color and space

Source of the design

 Sun-worn and weary

To be known with such pity

They wait for a meal

 

The gifts of aspen

As alluring on the ground

As they were aloft

fruit - seeds - cones and leaves 

summer sheds its rich bounty

compost for the spring

 a gentle commerce

september bids to august

summer paid in fall

from the north to south

we are all americans

sing across frontiers

 I will walk beside

Do not doubt the way we take

We are always home

Colors of the song

Dances of celebration

Skirts in whorls of joy

When the acorns fall

Squirrels are fast to take them

The oaks wax golden

 Three elegant deer

It is too warm to move south

They stop - prance away

Those which make no sense

Love - dreams - the sure source of tears 

Seem perfect to me

 While we were sleeping

The sky was filled with migrants

Bound for balmy climes

 Nothing fills my sail

Like a gust of poetry

Prosody in flight!

with the summer spent

 autumn is a renewal

of harvest and rut

 

Sisyphus Saved

A spider in the sink

Too steep - too slick - it slides back

I took it outside

unutterable

 the canyon invites no words

or comparison

 Now the crescent sun

Carved to a thin slice of light

By a pallid moon

 the ecliptic wheel

turns at the will of the stars

bearing night from day

 With such urgency

The celerity of the squirrels

Foretells winter’s hand

 Lambent maple tree

Made stunning by autumn’s chill

Ready to send its rain

 I prefer quiet

Except wind - water - and birds 

And music of course

 

Summer's profusion

Clings faithfully to cold limbs

Flames in autumn sun

 O to be a duck!

I can already waddle

But to fly and plunge!

 If you would find me

Search in the garden's rich soil

Amid roots and worms

 As I sleep - I dig

Bones of shrouded days exhumed

Fossils of my life

The day's single star

The multitudes of  the night

All spread superbly

No matter the dreams

Mornings ought to be grateful

To be rewakened

freedom is a cloud

in a perpetual sky

sheer and shape-shifted

 In spite of ourselves

We are the spring and autumn

Swelling and yielding

 

Something knocked at dusk

He held the door and his breath

A cold waft of fate

 Rejoice garbage trucks!

That hoist our wretched excess

To make room for more