Seasons – Page 106

I break a bit more
every time I remember
you’re not coming home
–
overcast skies-
again the postman
skips my house

a saddle blanket-
the only thing found between
my jeans and my horse
–
horseshoes-
the coal forge
cherry red

a mournful windsong
whispering past long dead oaks-
the forest’s lament
–
graveside rain-
one last leaf
taken by the wind

coupling freight cars-
clouds of smoke darken the air
throughout the rail yard
–
startled crows-
smoke and coal ash
fill the sky

perfectly flat stones
skipping on a gentle arc
across the water
–
a quiet splash-
willow branches
touch the water

on this lonesome road
my only legacy the
footprints in the dust
–
empty shells-
ocean waves
wash the shore

ghosts walk the streets of
an abandoned mining town
out of the shadows
–
desert shade-
sand dancing
across the road

anger in the air
reflections in the window
barely ghosts of us
–
cat tails-
the calm surface
minnows just below

the early morning sun
walks amid the wet grass and
turns the dew to gold
–
twilight-
memories of dreams
most elusive

near enough to see
daylight fading to the point
where the rain begins
–
tending the garden-
raindrops warm
on my neck