ONE VOICE

There is a beautiful between sunset and the pulling arms of night. Where a whisper breaches the veils of soft light and willow branch lips release satin thoughts.   Turquoise eyes swim in the wander of catching shadows while we stand under a failing gray sky, listening to quiet.   A ballet of hands dance … More ONE VOICE

COLD HANDS

A centurion wind marched over tree tops with a fluster of noise, disturbing green leaves, pulling a few away, tumbling through branches, scattering them on the ground to early defeat. Sparrows rushed as if on fire, lifting and landing, searching for cover then up and out for another place. Wide streams of wind rushed flat … More COLD HANDS

ALWAYS HERE

I am in the autumn leaves, the aroma of a passing season, the space between lines of days dripping from edges with sounds of violins mentioning my name. All paths look similar, like dream faces pulled from clouds; the sun marks me in the last of warmth. I am somewhere like a bookmark between pages of … More ALWAYS HERE

PREVAILING WINDS

I was pleasantly caught under a raining of leaves while on a back road. A burst of turbulent winds stirred autumn leaves into flight, sounding like bagged rattlesnakes striking to be free. Orange-rose colored leaves abandoned by summer, touched by frost, slipped their base, tumbling randomly to the ground. The air quickly cools as prevailing … More PREVAILING WINDS

SATURDAY MORNING

A tortuous wind casts gray footsteps over a wide water.   Tree tops shake green waxy leaves.   A swirl of odorless breezes pushes like fast midnight feet.   Fathoms of cool sand hold the shoreline intact.   The slip of a curtain wags its tongue through an open window.   Children create laughter out … More SATURDAY MORNING

A FEW LEAVES

          Broad lines of clouds lay discarded like fallen ladders under a sky reaching into forever.   A flock of birds, specks in motion, possess the width of an open horizon; their sounds become absorbed in distance.   A few remaining brown curled leaves hold fast to gray branches; they rattle … More A FEW LEAVES

CHANGE

The sound of newness lingered. The stem of an autumn leaf resisted its position of a summer passed. Voices within the winds slipped over branches like silver moonlight defying the eye of morning. August roots fail against the appetite of September and the cloak of October. Cool winds move in, forcing doors to close. The … More CHANGE