11 point maple leaves fall, and then 6 pointed flakes of snow.., , , ,
but coming in a few moons.. the unpointed raindrops of spring.
As dim cellar caged yams send out pink roots into the dark
unknown, so do souls facing change stretch in trust to the
The blueberries have become the bear.
He missed even the mire of the moors
when his dory was in strange moorings
Past Monday morns as the moon melted, he went to a job
he hated. But now he is his own master.
The maple donned the orange of October sannyas, but
in the spring returned to green.
An aqua oval of smooth form rests on jade moss
velvet as if a piece of azure sky had fallen on its pillow.
Suddenly it shatters, perfection robbing, to birth
the sweetest baby robin.