The Leaving Season

late autumn
time rushes by
like leaves on the wind

The Mountain Whispered Orange

this autumn
is a delicate affair
subtle in her hues

The Painter’s Eye

autumn is an impressionist
embuing everything
with the emotion of light

How Autumn Starts

branches
reintroduce themselves
one tiny flare of red

No Longer Even A Memory

like the night’s dreams
morning mist disperses
until dissolved

On The Porch

in the peacefulness
it is possible
to dream as big as the sky