Wind is Still

Wind is still.
When she comes to keep
moon company,
she sits on the lonely stone
& moon does nothing.

Air sings to her stillness
grass dances, trees wave oaken limbs, and wind
is still, all things move in her presence.
As she arrives, there is
song and dance in the fields and canyons
and across the waters

Imagine October

Just to see October,
the melancholic
strands of auburn
in her golden hair. To feel
the hint of bitter chill
in her romantic breath. Her scent,
inescapable: dry, leaf, orange, mulch.

Sideways, long-shadow moment watch
her in oak trees
as she so gently
undresses them
with merciless hands that even the breeze
is in love with.
Red brown yellow leaves
singing, dancing down sidewalks
in the tumble
of October’s assertive sigh.

Moon and midnight agree
with crickets’ songs, and they
praise October in vivid ebony skies
clarity unseen
by any other than October

Daffodils I&II

I.
Earth sings
back to early spring birds:

daffodils blooming,
green meadow.

II.
What if flowers
were too afraid and
self-conscious
to bloom?

3

Blame it
on traffic, blame it on
city lights and
heavy metal, radiation,
grocery shopping madness blame
it on the tea, the
Yoga, Tai chi, meditation
cushion blame it
all

There is no mind
state to chase

Conditions?

Today, sun rays sing to
chirping birds. Tomorrow,
fog and rain

A cushion and heavy
sit bones I think
I’ll sit down