the fence of lattice
inviting us to
see through, reach through
Available Openings
The Approach
off in the distance
winter is a train loaded with cold
closing the miles between us
Red Stocking
hosiery for faires
who must decide
for fashion or for gifts
To Choose Gratitude
thank you for the first snow
thank you for shelter from the cold
thank you for the few remaining leaves
thank you for the company of trees
Making Sense
amidst inversion and reflection
trees and leaves
still perceived
Clouds Above The Palisades
sunshine spotlights
the bluff face
as day dips into shadow
Touch
the fingerprints of trees
after tracing the sky
leaves caress the ground
Sunset Cinder
we savor the day’s embers
as November night
shutters the afternoon
Orientation
stillness held
in the midst of chaos
reveals the pattern
Settling On, Settling In
the river still runs
but the cold has dug
its fingers in the ground
Fly Away Home
the seeds are feathered
and ready to fledge
on the nest north wind
So Many Goodbyes
to the leaves, colors and blossoms
a tender farewell to each
until we meet again
Lit From Within
in the last days
brighter and more precise
than in all the previous living
Conversation Wanders
our feet
in the leaves
do all the talking now
From The Past The Future
shadow of the hollyhock’s
gift wrapped seeds
ghost of summer, prophet of spring
Wistful Windows
I see a longing
in the barns’ window eyes
unsure if it is theirs or mine
Bedazzling Bark
extraordinary
in the ordinary
a thing being itself
The Old Orchard
abiding change
resolute in bearing fruit
apples in community
The Entry Is The Horn
the stairs
a cornucopia
abundance on Beacon Hill
Isle
I send my dreams
away to play on the island
in the bay
Dissolving Into The Next Dimension
in the final days intensified
more precise somehow
while leaving
Falling Fast
a flurry
of oak leaves
hurries towards winter
Forest Bones
time’s skeleton
the sun bleached bones
of prodigious trees
A Satisfaction
a contented lowing
released into the mist rise
of the morning
Oak Leaves And Seaweed
riding the breath
of the ocean
home
Still Sweet
Maine’s blueberry sky
not yet
bittered by cold
Autumn’s Wealth
the light
now gilds
most everything
Gathered In Worship
every leaf a prayer
at the steeple
of the felled tree
Rise Of The Sun
colors of the new day
press against
the bedroom screen
The Flowers Shout
with purple fringe and frill
mums shatter silence
with blooms