Autumn’s Fancy

Autumn’s full of flair,
Shaking out her crimson hair,
Fancy, she sipped tumblers filled
With sunlight that in summer spilled,
And now she beams while letting go
Ablaze before the fall.

Woodpecker

The woodpecker way,
Needle nosing to uncover what’s hidden,
Not for the sake of idle nosy-ness
But to get through layers
Where necessary nourishment lives,
One feeding the other,
In the movement a transference
Of information,
Though let’s call them spores or a fungal frolic
Dancing to a drilling drum beat
The woodpecker way.

Plotting

He wondered what to grow in the small plot he’d turned over.  It was a pleasant sight, clods of dirt mounded up in tidy squares; he watched worms wriggling as he gulped water, splashed his sweaty face.  The sun had long since burned away all dew, it was on fire. Continue reading “Plotting”

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