Friday, November 27, 2009

Darkness Falls





















Darkness falls like Autumn leaves,

Upon the brown and barren hills

And in my heart, I come to grieve


As winds blow cold across the eaves

And branches scratch the windowsill.

While darkness falls like Autumn leaves,


Small creatures seek their burrows deep,

Heralds of the coming chill,

And in my heart, I come to grieve,


For winter moves in like the thieves

That steal the light and sap the will

While darkness falls like Autumn leaves.


The year grows short and I believe

It is with rue my days must fill,

And in my heart, I come to grieve


For all the failures to achieve

And all the hopes gone unfulfilled.

While darkness falls like Autumn leaves,

In my heart, I come to grieve.


Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Crossings
















At the crossing

On South Poplar,

An old man lost his life.

By the time I drove across,

Darkness hid the scene.

I saw nothing of eternity,

Only a huddle of people,

Caught in headlights.

The old man was gone,

As if he’d never been.

I wondered as I drove on home

If he had known too late

That this would be his end.

Further out on the mountain,

I had to stop for an old buck

Standing in the road.

Impassive in my headlights,

He gazed at me a long time

Before deciding to turn and leap away.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

I've been a little busy!















I hope you'll understand that I haven't been around much lately. This is my newest love, Juliet Catherine. She was an hour old here. Notice that Grammy looks a little haggard - but relieved and so very grateful.

For Juliet

Blessings like velvet
rabbit soft upon my skin
swaddle me in love.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

ragdoll
















I want to be

the doll I recall,

not the mouldering rag

I’ve become,

afraid of the sun,

rooted to the shelf,

dusty head waving

like a funhouse image,

stitched on smile

twisted back upon itself.

I want to jump

from my careful stance,

prop up my wobbly legs

and dance – or run.

I want to look rot

in the eye and spit.

I want to quit

turning myself inside out

to expose the ragged seams,

to find the means

by which the sawdust pours.

I want more.


Sunday, November 1, 2009

Ashes and Bone















Ashes and Bone

When I am gone,

Put me to the fire;

Ashes and bone

Are all that I desire

Be left of me.


Let me have

Fair wind to sift me

Through the trees;

Grey amidst the green

Is what I long to be.


Find me in the field,

A rustle of the grass,

Or hollow in the hills;

Beside the garden path,

I’ll sing among the reeds.


Put me to the fire,

Share me with the day;

Let my spark inspire

New green among the grey

From all that’s left of me.