Falling
sprinting to your door
the rain soaked newspaper held
just over my head
–
staccato whispers-
light rain falling
through the trees
sprinting to your door
the rain soaked newspaper held
just over my head
–
staccato whispers-
light rain falling
through the trees
a warm southern breeze
long willow boughs sway gently
caressing the earth
–
spring rains-
the willow’s soft tears
darken the ground
as winter arrives
fog seeps into the valley
under a veiled moon
–
harvest moon-
the arthritic fingers
of barren trees
standing at the bow
salt spray drenching your sundress
the sun in your hair
–
terns on the wing-
flecks of sea foam
floating gently past
caught in the moment
losing time watching you dance
barefoot in the rain
–
cloudburst-
green leaves on the
steaming pavement
down by the lakeside
a skein of migrating geese
glide in for a rest
–
hot pavement-
the roar of flight
fills my ears
walking in the snow
grinning as you casually
step in my footprints
–
robin tracks-
early spring
snowfall
gilded double doors
open with empty promises
of false salvation
–
heavy leaden sky-
swollen riverbanks
poised to overflow
staring deep into
an empty sheet of paper
conjuring the muse
–
winter’s canvas-
a palette of pine
and fresh snow
visiting the well
my wooden bucket dipping
deep in the moonlight
–
alongside the lake-
the harvest moon
follows me home