Seasons – Page 137

working the block plane
paper thin curls of maple
littering the floor
–
a snowy owl
gliding silently
across the night

a symbol of strength
welcoming travelers that
seek her destruction
–
in the forest
of fallen oaks
a sapling grows

sleep so elusive
reliving memories in
my childhood bedroom
–
oppressive heat
clock watching
until sunrise

at the marsh’s edge
flat water just visible
between the rushes
–
cat tails
swaying in
the salt breeze

not quite a woman
and yet no longer a girl
searching for her path
–
fresh snow
treading lightly
in your footprints

alone in the woods
dry rustling leaves in the wind
the snap of a twig
–
sear grasses
fueling the
inevitable

splintering sunlight
golden arrow shafts quiver
piercing the water
–
the dog days
interrupted by
shattered glass

clinging to the light
for fear I may yet answer
when the darkness calls
–
spring rains
surging cataracts
once docile streams

sunflowers in bloom
all turning in unison
to bask in the sun
–
a salamander
atop a fence post
awaits the dawn

the light of hope shines
across the vastness of space
from a long dead star
–
a fallen oak
sprouting
shiitakes