Four Things I See in the Sky on a Windy Day

Four Things I See in the Sky on a Windy Day

 

Leaves stampeding past a second floor window like escaped horses.
Gray scales of a dragon’s vast belly slides over the city.

A cloud viewed through empty branches, ghost of foliage.
A vapor trail unwriting itself across the day’s crisp paper.

 

To the Tune of a Song Not Yet Written [4]

To the Tune of a Song Not Yet Written [4]

 

I walk up my own street after sunset.
The moon is not yet up and the last streetlight

is behind me. Slowly, slowly I trudge up the hill
and slowly, slowly my shadow fades into the dark bricks.

I have lost myself and where I am going
but with no streetlights the roof has been taken off

the world. If I stood still I could find and count a star
for each of the eighteen thousand days I have lived so far.

Here in the dark stretch of street they are with me.
With my shadow gone and the dark bricks

pretending not to move at the speed of stars.

Atlantic Flyways, or, Males Never Asking for Directions

Atlantic Flyways, or, Males Never Asking for Directions

Someone tell the two Canada geese
flying up the street at quarter past nine

this November evening they are heading
to West Virginia

The Silver Maple Leaves Turn Yellow, Not Silver, Although This Poem Is Not Really a Critique of That In Any Way, And Would You Believe That an 11th Century Chinese Poet Suggested This Title

The Silver Maple Leaves Turn Yellow, Not Silver, Although This Poem Is Not Really a Critique of That In Any Way, And Would You Believe That an 11th Century Chinese Poet Suggested This Title

Yellow day will not last.
Silver maple gives to silver frost.

Behind my shadow shines the past–
Yellow day will not be lost.

Mid-Autumn Figures (Moon and Maple)

Mid-Autumn Figures (Moon and Maple)

 

Moon

Stone in the sky
tumbles through centuries

of clouds  smoothing out
absence with its presence

Maple

Just past their peak, wind-lifted
and let go like a child flung off a swing

higher than they have ever been
Meanwhile on the ridge line the trees

link arms and begin the walk home

novembermoon