Autumn

Early morning bitter red tea
Steam rises to face, a seasonal touch.

A few dry leaves crunch
Underfoot leaving rusty crumbs.

Autumn arrives; my heart warms,
Soon crackle of chestnuts roasting.

September 22 2012

Sencha and The Boss

Sencha and The Boss aren't companions,
First thing in morning, when sun glows
Through grey dawn cover. He speaks
Of faith, I try not to snicker. Thinking about
Trading summer colors for autumn's rust & decay.
He sings about pushin' it till it's understood
And these badlands start treating us good.
So I pick up the quill and pot of ink,
On rough paper this landscape will be redrawn.

September 19, 2012

Paths

A hazy morning or is it fog?
Either substance, the path
Dully shimmers like warm
Breath on cold crystal.
Many hours before time
for sleep and already the
road is long, has been long.
Are cobblestones beneath
Fast waters a blaze to salvation?
Or is there a pyre in which to
Ignite for ashes becoming feathers?

September 18, 2012

Sympathy

Asters glowing in the sun gazing
Up at the lone mourning dove
Quietly perched alone on faded fence
Golden petals drooping in sympathy
For his solitary silence as Autumn nears

September 14, 2012

Wish Tree

Leaves trying to drift with wind
Still tethered to branch and trunk
Wishes desiring pilgrimage to heaven
Still burdened with earthly vices
My wish tree is one I draw each day
Then burn to free them from my mind

September 10, 2012

Trade

Scent of Oolong in my nose
Warm early sun grazes asters
Shade on far side hints of Fall
Time to trade wool for cotton
Eager for coming season's frost

September 9, 2012

Waking

Feather quill scratches paper
Feeble vibrations grazes my hand
Vellum's tooth evokes dormant dreams
I know this process from time past
I have seen these images already
Time for spirited imaginings to wake

September 4, 2012

Quill

It started as a blank, once a living tree
Felled and cut to pieces,
Limbs and digits bleached in the sun
Now in this tired fingers I search for its life
Turning it into something to be stained
Into something manipulated and pushed
It becomes an extension of this tired hand
It becomes a tactile voice of these tired eyes

September 3, 2012

Thinning Vines

Thinning tomato vines
Beneath a grey late Summer ceiling
Pungent scent on my stained fingers
Fine cilia scratches skin like
A cat wanting attention
Scarlet orbs in dirty palm
See translucent fragile skin
Mouth waters imagining taste of
Sweet savory fruit dipped in sea salt

September 1, 2012

Autumn Moon

The sound of mourning doves
cooing through the open window
woke me ahead of passing cars

Soon the night air will be too cold
to leave the glass open wide

Soon I will have to place a blanket
on the bed instead of soft thin sheets

But I am already imagining
the Autumn moon feigning shyness
behind gossamer clouds
during the cooling midnight

I will watch her and wait
for the silhouettes of migrating birds
against her bright face flying South

August 31, 2012

Endings

Summer is waning and
I can't wait for autumn

Give me the falling leaves
Give me the golds and reds of forests
Readying for respite

Summer will lie down when the fall
Mist greets me in mornings

The smell of dry bark will tickle my nose
The sound of cracking twigs will make me giddy

And I shall watch the orange sun
Each evening reflecting fallen foliage

August 30, 2012

pre dawn

before dawn wakes i toil restlessly
in dreams to push her away
looking for more hours of sweet slumber
looking for more hours of reverie
to soothe my bruised soul
yet beyond these eyelids there is pink
it is not my thin flesh but the magenta of a new day

 august 28, 2012

Chino the Hamster

He was sleeping in my arm and started snoring. We managed to get only one squeak before he woke.

bitter tea

i rose before daylight
waited patiently with hot
cup of jasmine tea in hands
then finally the first golden
gingko leaf tumbled down
onto damp mossy flagstone
my autumn is here as
bitter tea hits my palate

11.11.11

it's not a crusade
save a couple beads
don't think it's new

don't think it's sacred
or with this red cross
i'll come for you too

as i came for myself
finding bloodied fingers

seeds

sleepy eyes and wandering fingers
teddy cat in my face when i wake

but her scent is still on our pillow
smile, inhale a sweet experience

a season may past, maybe a snow
in this clime, spring flowers are seeded

settings

i wake tangled in delicate strands of amber and honey
her sweetness and warmth are still on the linen
her marks are on my clothes like cat signs, "taken"

i only set out one coffee set but just for now
i have to pinch the third growth on tomato vines
she is not there sleepily in the morning sun at seven

in this interstitial i'll have to adjust portions for one
until later moons give tide to new harvests
then i'll have to wash dishes for two settings again

wheels

early in the morning
as i stretch my neck
round and round

lives of last nights' dreams
play in the forebrain
as a thousand tangled wheels

matin

Low sun cool air
Contrasts with memory
of her warm skin
While I stare at singing train tracks

racing

the mind races with coming dawn
soft bands of pale violet and periwinkle
ribbons of what will be washed ochre
chases shadows at tops of still tree tops