The heathered pink and blue of this dying winter's day, reminds me joy is tinged with sadness, while love and sorrow be a singularity How the trees' wood turns golden in the gloaming! We of the canopy there in the dying light, hereby... Stripped branches like veins reach to the indigo, as much above ground now as rooted below Stars be our blanket, protect us from the wind till dewy 'morrow cc: Chagall 2022
Tag Archive: seasons
I smell so good after turning beds
of arugula by hand.
Chagall 2017
Ripe things are
getting harder to find
nowadays.
© Chagall 2016
Some have laughed
though Inuits espy
the sun doesn’t rise
where it used to
They claim
polar bears
are burning
Through the center
we point now
to different stars
(a more distant spot
in heaven)
They can
no longer
say if tomorrow
will rain
Chagall 2016
She said she saw the bittersweet
autumn in early spring, knew that
sunlight over time would burn her
colder than today.
© Chagall 2015
A trace of night mist
settles on the white birch boughs
Autumn calls you home
© Chagall, 2013
Alphabet City 