Solar flare

Moon hangs

pale

 

in rose sky

 

Sun has flown

to distant climes

 

& storm in night

brought first leaf fall

 

dried up golden crunch

soaked to soggy brown

 

Autumn holding out

her hands.

 

Waking in the night

animal cry, fox’s flight

 

my dreams are full

of you.

 

*

 

My golden boy

Narcissus lost

 

on southern beach:

between us

 

time has changed

no thing.

 

We laugh

our kisses

 

melt to heat

fire rekindled

 

in the Spring,

desire & love

 

so long a heady

potion.

 

You call, I call

we’re never far

 

from solar flare,

 

from point

of re ignition.

Advertisements

Late August

Morning coffee

autumn light

 

swallows flown,

& a chill touches

 

skin so brown

from summer sun.

 

Yellow berries hang;

it seems to me

 

my lemon tree grew

too green

 

this English summer.

 

I’m waiting for the

first leaf fall

 

poised on cliff

of pearl grey dawn

 

where the sea surfs

beneath my feet

 

& winter’s

coming.

Harvest

 

To arrive at a place

I have known before

 

down the road

I did not take;

 

August turns to

autumn chill

 

combine harvests

golden grain

 

& the glow of

eclipsed moon

 

crosses the ancient

valley.

 

To know so much

I did not know

 

& yet little changes.

 

The shadow of a smile

in another’s eye

 

a small child’s footsteps.

 

To arrive at this place

& know it for

 

the first time.

 

The beloved offers

a single rose:

 

white like naked page,

yellowed now

 

with time & age;

a mystery still glimpsed

 

the stage empty.

4a.m. thunder:

rain, like time,

 

pounds:

 

today you spoke

in tongues

 

I replied

high laughter.

 

Ebb & flow

of us

 

like the sea

you shimmer.

 

This weather

becomes you.

 

I’m flighty

rain full

 

of fantasy

 

lightning strikes

I wait for the kill

 

long lived pockets

of habit.

 

Like you,

it illuminates,

 

before hurrying

away to storm

 

another’s bastion.

 

This August

 

Fresh like autumn

too much rain

 

garden heaves

with green

 

rampant blossoms

bob their blousy heads

 

detonating petals

white & pink

 

to float away.

 

Too much green

trees are lowering

 

over me

 

sun a faint thimble

bouncing light

 

on sleeping lids.

 

I dream of distant

seas, aqua blue

 

lost beaches &

a sun that heats

 

blood & bone

to burning.

 

Here august

just begins

 

lilies pink with

pollen heads

 

& yet the morning

light, hides,

 

season’s change

 

whispers winter’s

but a breath away

 

& waiting.