leaving

Leaves golden and crumble twist through air and to the ground
while windy gusts blow through the woods and pile them in a mound
to mold and darken with decay into the winter's womb
returning Life into the Earth, delivered from the Tomb
in Spring.

Walnuts

have been plopping to the ground for weeks, but I just started picking them and popping them in buckets to just empty on the road for tires to roll upon a while to take their hides away.

The inner hulls are washed and dried and waited on to crack one day.

Ladybugs

are landing now and loading up the house
with orange and black.
They stink (as sharply as they bite)
and scurry into cracks.

The swarm and scurry of today
means winter is not far away.

return

the man fell

the temple rose
in sweet ash

truth to
impose

desert

nothing is there
and so
i will be

blueberries

slip into my fingers from the sweetened tips of twigs

berries

dogs plop in the pond
having come full circle
sniffing, smelling, scouting, searching
for the furries of the farm

i slowly stroll behind them
with my little bag of berries
and my itchy scratchy arms.