Tag Archives: fall

365 Days of Poetry: Day Three-Hundred and Twenty

leaves swirl, night covers.
cleansing rain gone to ground and
life prepares for death.

365 Days of Poetry: Day Three-Hundred and Eighteen

forget it.
not the same.
not different in.
any good way.
too many obstacles.
too much heartache.
too sick to dream.
flail and no answers.
come, cannot explain.
weather fixates, then.
flits again, confused.
no balance here.

365 Days of Poetry: Day Three-Hundred and Seven

it is a cold day to smoke.
devoted to my addictions I.
bundle up, hunker down,
curse the wind.
early afternoon and I am.
still alive, it’s a good feeling.
yellow to red surrounds and.
the reprieve is over, so.
time to adjust.
it is the human condition.

365 Days of Poetry: Day Three-Hundred and Three

no longer summer.
no longer winter.
a space in between.
relearning all the skills.
once maintained.
the squirrels scramble.
for their last foragings.
trees letting final fruits fall.
a time of death.
reborn with Thanksgiving.
after the monsters come out to play.
the lead up is different this year.
spirit empty.

365 Days of Poetry: Day Two-Hundred and Ninety-Nine

due west.
the sun falls with regularity.
after the zenith of noon.
taking an edge off.
wind and cold.
the end of October.
no longer an end point.
but reality.
change, this is the time.
it comes in stages,
a step here, a step there.
subconscious working out the kinks.
of an embattled mind.
my leaves fell early this year.
and death should not be forced.

365 Days of Poetry: Day Two-Hundred and Ninety

the squirrels scramble.
for one last nut to crack.
autumn not yet in full bloom.
the trees remain three-quarters green.

the sheen of a barely broken sky.
oversees small change, all lie in wait.
for cold and the white of lazy days.
when one dreams of fires and good books.

wolf takes over, live for a day and then.
repeat the function and make things new.
serious reprocussions of the past engulf.
but no one dwells on truth.

365 Days of Poetry: Day Two-Hundred and Seventy-Seven

a trick of the trail.
little things I missed.
the song of familiar birds.
a hum behind the world.
a proper light.
a concrete stoop.
changing without worry of discovery.
a backbeat.
and leaves fall.
from familiar trees.

365 Days of Poetry: Day Two-Hundred and Fifty-Nine

the circle expands.
yellow and brown.
each morning it has.
a greater circumference.
this is the mark of days.

she becomes more bold.
as each day passes.
a new kitten.
a new life.

the scattered outliers.
will be filled in.
the full change of the world.

landscape mirrors life.
understanding floats down.

%d bloggers like this: