Like Annie Dillard
I’ve learned to be
still enough so even
birds ignore me, they
settle so close oblivious
to my presence, the more
of this the better I think
– the great divide gone just like that.
Though
there certainly is a food chain.
© Chagall 2016
Stars are formed in clouds
Of gas and dust, nebulae
Nuclear at core
Stars provide enough
Energy brightly for years
The exact lifetime
© Chagall 2016
… we shall never know
the taste of fruit we nourished,
laid out to field beneath sun
amid nature on true course,
these tomes are more than mere words,
they are …
© Chagall 2016
Ripe things are
getting harder to find
nowadays.
© Chagall 2016
As I go
so goeth
a quick step
alongside
yet again
watch me teeter
I catch stride
ambulate cleanly
now and then
sometimes for a pretty long time
oops!
banana peel
yep – my head popped
cement apparently
jarred me looser
I float beside me
in rarefied ether
levitate clearly
now and then
© Chagall 2016
They’re pretty – perfect really, she says.
Buy the dead flowers.
But I’m more tempted
by the sentient ones
despite their powdery mildew.
© Chagall 2016
The night is crisp, autumnal.
Bourbon sweeter.
My son and his petite amie
at a friend’s cabin while they’re away.
With them, a bag of sweet potatoes
I grew and cured, for roasting
over the wood fire they’ll make.
Life is good.
Peepers sing earlier
than usual tonight. Harmonics from breezes
to trees to shape the glass arc of our ears
to blow gently in them.
I am yellow aged orange inflamed
dared to go red before withering.
I pray to the last gold ray of sun
there in the tall eastern trees
that refuses to say die to another day.
© Chagall 2016
I am obsessed and compulsed to consume
inordinate amounts of mint chocolate chip
anything really. I am wholly hooked.
© Chagall 2016
Halve it thrice if eight’s
what you’re looking for.
© Chagall 2016
There at the end of
the garden are all of
the seasons’ lessons
to be learned
So let’s Us harvest
– for unless we harvest …
© Chagall 2016
Alphabet City 