I am these annuals drying in the window box
And the leaves blushing on wall climbing vines
Or yellow-paled in the mirrored trees,
For I too tire, well-seasoned in my own falling.
Ode to an October Window
Season Sighting
With reflecting branches just barely,
And red decreasing leaves framing
Those double panes home warming fairly,
Sentry window is falling proclaiming.
Seduction’s End at Salt Run
Though retreating mist still clings to the eastern dunes,
And sailboats yet tug against moorings in the outgoing tide,
The rising sun is below the horizon by but two degrees,
And soon will end dawn’s dreamy promise of escape.
Tunnel’s End
First bright sightings of the shops
On Rue Jean-Jacques Rousseau
Most entice sojourners
When occurring within
The tunnel’s enclosing twilight.
From the Gazebo at Vilano
This summer’s sunrise
Aflame above and below -
Morning glorious
Love Trees
One life through two trees
Locked in unending embrace –
Hallowed matrimony
Stop Sign
In the garden in the back by the fence,
Toward the end of the narrow brick path
And near the shade of the bordering oaks,
The butterfly hovers in silence.
Skimming salvia, lantana, and milkweed,
Sampling flowers, cluster to cluster,
It alights on a young fire bush
Not two feet in front of me.
It spreads its wings out and then down
Till they lay on the orange red blossoms.
Fingers crossed, it will stay for a while;
I suspect I’ll not move till it’s gone.
