autumn keening in my bones
March 2017
darkening scent
crickets swell the night
with sweet nothings
dandler of dreams
a glowworm
preys
Lent begins
the autumnal light
turns ashen
yes
Penelope
in Bloom
breathless
at the end
of words
here and now
poets crafting haiku
of blossoms and the moon
while before our eyes
one falls to extinction
one is lost to smog
beginning
at the root
of its tail
the mouse's long
and sad tale
thins out at its end
my footprint
soled, souled, sold
silting up
the child I was
singsongs the silence
still to come
windswept rain
everyone I pass
another self
"autumn dusk"
not this one of words
but the other
where light was
a chiaroscuro
of presence
almost being
autumn
in the trees
last light
"fiat nox" rustles
in the hedge
the light
her words on tiptoes
grasping it
Abba, Abba —
a baba tagging God
with quatrains
