Posts tagged ‘fall’

October 23, 2016

delineate the fall, scene 1

mornings like these
leaves come crashing
through the limbs
of stiffening trees

where fat squirrels
bound like jack rabbits
in search of
something to call winter shelter

inside the silhouette paint
of an autumnal tie-dye day
thermometers point,
inside, they spin at change

what sound of cut silence
delineated by robins call
a bus, the 67 going by,
Pileated Woodpecker
and a “V” flown southeast

our house cat mows grass at
my pale naked feet,
on some cool broken sidewalk
merely rented–what to own?

entryway of flowery vine
as stairs coming alive
at this venture of fallen
dead photosynthesis–dry leaf dying

i imagine if it
thought to spark a moment
in the morning mind
of some drifter standing

i imagine it like
it was some actor being told
to “ACTION!” by
some muted invisible god
in the distance biding its time

(fall to the set)

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September 18, 2016

La Crescent Haiku #1

Fog of deep valley
drifts away from verdant bluffs.
Small town soul revealed.

August 15, 2016

Hope.

i woke up
learned,
tired of some sleep,
ready for fall,
August flowers
hanging off
a 1920’s
wooden mantel,
waiting for
new weather,
tasting fresh
coffee,
hoping for
brilliance
in commutes,
friendships,
ideals,
and openness
in modern
minds where
they won’t
find it.
i beg of travel
and good health,
the way
family used to
years before
all the funerals
started
to happen.
i need
better ghosts
to let me know
they exist,
and i need
better
doctors to
tell me
i’m sick.
something,
something
about hope.

November 9, 2015

Vetsch Park

cutting through
the wet knoll,
green and heavy,
here let white
steamed breath.
a blanket of
fallen leaves
under foot with
stones and sand,
droppings of
the night, unknown,
as forms and figures
danced in shadows.
at midday this
lone foraged trail
at Vetsch Park;
start to go, climb to
god’s seeing eye,
climb to Stoney Point,
back to the cross, to
the christmas star,
back around to town,
back around on
this familiar ground.

November 1, 2015

Taking in the Forest

Leave colors inexplicable
Roots simply acquiesced
Bark came torn to forcibly
Counting the rings within

September 23, 2015

whether weather

maybe rain
maybe sun,
maybe IDK
another day

September 11, 2015

a passing thought – neurotic

sick with the taste of
exhaustion, caught in throat
with cold wind, radio barking,
pizza sitting, how legs tire,
how body aches–so sore,
tender, cutting, sharpness;
stomach in knots; hours
of night, pushing pillows,
sweating, drooling, shake;
waking, wanting it to go,
tiresome day, morning lows;
semester’s triumphs & wows;
the hue is darker in autumn–
daily highs, found here
in bed dying; living, life,
nose bleed caught in tissue,
she asks, I tell; can’t talk,
doing nothing but packing,
leave on the next day–if i can,
feeling as my co-worker
with a pain in her side: wary;
will they remove it, or am
i just paranoid at a thought?
these remedies come fast,
vile seeds sewn and growing;
if only to fix my fretting mind.

September 8, 2015

astonish

back to
the same thing,

still surprised
by change.

March 23, 2015

we are the same

You, me; us we—forward or backward,
together we are the same.

Parts of a carnal body, whole—
built of dust, thoughts, and air;
no scar is without a measure,
no action still unmoved,
shell of human being outside,
ghost of us within.

We are compelling a kind,
eyes peer to see;
from Franklin and Nicollet to NE,
Middle America to Middle East.

Still, forward or backward, we are the same.

March 13, 2015

Prelude to Spring Break 2015

As early March had come in biting and the best were kept inside,
a span of two weeks had passed slowly and sleep had become elusive.

Professors watched second hands tick and gave out faux tests;
these symbolic life quizzes—it’s who makes it who matters.

Desks became confines as concentration went out open windows,
to welcome hands of mild weathered-breeze and new-season sun.

People—tired students, red-eyed lecturers, they didn’t exist;
regular situations became stimuli for a stagnant comatose: why?

No answers formed, except that three days later a person could be a week away,
anywhere—abroad, nothing to do, only to read titles and books which please.

Yet we all sat watching that clock, it moved slower despite us;
now, it would have to stay indoors and assess classrooms of empty chairs.

Scholars and administration would hopefully be in Spring air, taking it in,
with a cold beer in hand and tender sunrays on their back;

minds would exist as empty—blank slates, to pen a tale—an experience,
with no thoughts of what was left sitting behind, with not a hint of rigor.