Blow hard

loose windows knock

on windy days

doors slam shut

on those same days

things are thrown

furniture is knocked over

on windy days

dead branches fall and

ash is blown from chimneys

on windy days

faded flowers disappear

and roots are stimulated

on windy days

dusty air is cleared

dandelion seeds travel far

and whispers fly to the stars

on windy days

 

Time out

so many words

lost to the moment

a flock of birds

that have scattered

into the sky

when the frustration

fumes into the ether

around dusk dancing

with twigs donning new leaves

that is where the words leave

in a sigh

in a deep breath

all those words collecting

behind that mental dam

to cause a pause and retreat

to a moment to lose words

 

Once more

perhaps white butterflies

come back as seagulls

or better yet the small

fluffy clouds that take

shape as other things

and shift their shapes

until they disappear

it's just the same as

the perpetual march

of the flora fountain

diminishing daffodils

bow out to iris glory

for them to yield to

heavy lily perfumes

for all blooming beauty 

to yield only to even more

within the heart of

the divine and eternal

 

 

Pastoral

green among

the golden grass remains

both goose and gosling

weave through willow

water's edge

paddling in the puddle

under the barking blackbirds

striped red with wings

off further follows

cattle calls and calves

running with young joy

the early energy 

that's spent so soon

and is overly observed

by standing smooth stones

through the years

What hides in grass

in the light

and shadow

at the foot 

of the spruce

a rabbit hops

between the two 

worlds to nibble

on the green grass

unknowing what

its fodder may

have been donned

with by the very ones

who cause the rabbits

to run from this

very moment as

they ride through

the scene on assailant

lawn mowers