Seasons

as the fog rolls in
skeletons of spectral trees
fade into the night
–
foggy evening-
gnarled branches
scratch at my window

as the sun rises
I try once more to forget
the sins of my past
–
spring evening-
frogs still
as I walk past

years of my life spent
in the futile pursuit of
bubbe’s chicken soup
–
easy rain-
sandwiches and
tomato soup

slices of the moon
slivered through the window blinds
drape across your back
–
snowy owl-
cold branches
in the dead of night

a stash of acorns
squirreled away for safekeeping
in a hollow tree
–
bird feeder-
spring daffodils
seek the sun

your door left open-
looking back at you as I
close it behind me
–
moonlight-
your mobile
slowly winds down

a silver quarter
rolling between my fingers-
practice makes perfect
–
trafalgar square-
the red queen
hiding

these nameless corpses
stacked upon one another
bear witness to war
–
cobalt sky-
birds nest in
the shattered roof

offer me darkness
and take me to the places
I would never go
–
gnarled trees-
green eyes glow
in the shadows

sawdust on the floor-
the earthy aroma of
horse manure and hay
–
a saddle blanket-
riding bareback
in the tall grass