a pause, rested against the mill hopper
behind the glass of an eye

these empty mornings
climb through a mindful shell- as passes a gust by bare branch

distant looming giants wade freely tantamount to possibilities
in the house of both existence and not
they flow before us like gods

the clouds drift
like silver rivers,
the rain trickles-
crushed petals of silk.
the little valleys of
sky ruffle like leaves.
the autumn is a
diamond sky-
crisp and cold.

the autumn broods,
moody, full of leaf.
the sky sinks like
a silver ghost,
drinks its pools of
frost, its moments
full of dream.

white as a sheet the day’s
ghosts fade like an
old photograph.
the rivers of the day
tremble and drown
with the rain that
falls and falls.
i am a mosaic,
a floor made of
tiles, ashen with
autumn reds.

we dream like
an autumn sky,
shining in the
waters of a
haunting moon.
i put my
hand in yours,
get that rush
of fever, eye
seeking eye,
lip seeking lip,
leg seeking leg.

red leaves,
hollows of water
and sun,
bright reflections,
the day drifts
opens the afternoon
like a love letter
softer for its layers
of bronze.

The fall songs hum through the forest and soon will become the seasons chorus....