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over the past weeks
a gentle autumn sun
has painted colored leaves
upon the ground
and thinned
the bright abundance
of the wooded ranges

most of the harvest
is securely stored by now
or sold at morning markets
by weathered men and women
in country garbs

vintners are busy with their lots
fermenting grapes
and entertaining those
who see their visit
as pleasant pastime and escape
from daily urban chores

hunters and lumbermen
are waking up
to shoot and mark

schools by this time
have settled into the new year
teachers are happy still to share
the knowledge of our world
with students still inclined
to listen

remembering their vacations
on the Bahamas or in Saint Tropez
step sprightly into offices
womanned by secretaries dreaming secretly
of beautiful Mallorca summers
and of those never-ending nights
on the Algarve

I guess it is a human thing
to find a new beginning
and do best
when nature’s breath goes easy
to collect the strength
for yet another fruitful year

or were it better
that we also took a rest?

           * *
Leigh May 2015
Around the backs of houses:
Overgrowth cloaked a
Horde of little rascals with
Pockets full of pennies.

Some were almost as tall as the
Highest stalks and jumped
Once a minute to gauge the number
Of silly long strides left to spring from.

Eyes fixed forwards, soldiering
On to the treeline and then just
Beyond - Through the ditch and
Brambles, emerging onto stones:

Ten feet towered with a
Steep ascent as a clear warning
Raptly ignored by the imps --
The chasers of thrills and stories

And melted misshapen metal -
Wherein lies the innocence of their
Treacherous endeavors. Those
Pennies would return mangled and bent

Enough to weave a tale of valiance
And near-death peril so captivating
It couldn't possibly be spun;
For in your hand you held a token.

"The world vibrated and ear drums
Exploded, running to cover from
The screaming, steaming demon:
Dublin to Belfast express!"
They would say.
Kitts Apr 2015
Sitting on the ground
Sobbing without a sound
Wicked black blade to slender pale tan wrist
Long brown hair
Tears running down her still child like cheeks
Black shirt
Black skirt
Hand trembling as she tries to take her own life

Go on!

Do it!

No one cares!

Not about you!




No one loves you!

Cut it already!


The sobs become louder, more frantic
As she tries to take her own life

the voices cheer her on
Taunt her, tease her, cut her

The laughter of the other children
Echoes in her small ears

The fights of her mom and
New boyfriend flash in her mind

The sting of the willow branch across her bare back

Girls running circles around her making fun of the way she talked

Boys laughing, throwing rocks, breaking her things
And laughing as she cried

So here she is on the ground in the corner of the schoolyard
Ready to slice her veins, to watch her life drain

Finally a still small voice, just a tiny whisper
Made it through the rest and somehow through all the noise
The little girl heard it say...
Someone out there loves you...
the little girl dropped the black knife
And jumped to her feet
Ashamed that she had almost excepted defeat

— The End —