autumn leaf

(internet photo)

They come together two by two.
One arrives alone.
A pilgrimage to the mountains.

Hillside blazes yellow, orange and red,
leafy flames igniting trails high above the valley.
Footsteps crunch.
Laughter piggy backs on the wind.
Two ravens swoop in unison,
wing tips brushing conversations below.

Robust feasts surround
fermented offerings.
Drunk with stories, new and old,
words sway and wobble among the guests.

Log walls stand stone still.
Mum to all.

In the morning
flowered china,
chipped and cracked,
holds warms muffins
and fresh fruit.

They depart, as they came,
in pairs, and one alone.
A simple reminder
that solitude does not have to mean

Splash a Rhythm


Music tapped at my window this morning.
A wet beat ran down my pane and dripped into my dreams.
I awoke with a song in my head, a moisture chorus
surrounding my world in a watery ditty.

Rain dropped and trickled,
plopped and splashed,
It dribbled and drizzled,
sprinkled and sprayed.

Like an amateur band jamming for fun, enjoying simple play,
the showers continued their invitation to come out;
to hum in the mizzle, and stomp in the mist,
splash a rhythm in puddles and create my own tune;
an impromptu session, special performance
with Madame Nature.