bitter, savage wind
autumn spirals
every tree, now spare
sewing room, under construction
I’m keen to engage
in some fabric creativity
once again
provisions
leathery honey locust seedpods,
high-energy winter food for cattle and deer.
*
pimpled green Osage oranges: squirrels love them.
humans, not so much; hedge apples, decidedly non-edible.
*
assorted nuts, seeds, acorns & persistent fruits. mosses. twigs.
bark & leaves. late autumn gifts blanket the woodland.
resilience
mature willows, a pairing
our view across the way —
wind out of the northwest
curbside pickup
discards of summer
and the mellow days
of early autumn —
vibrant recollections
our shared humanity
sandwiched between
the darkness & the light,
might we all stumble
every now & again
to Frankie, with love
feeding my little monster
will this be the day?
sourdough starter, Day 7
the last good day this year?
leaves whoosh across the sunny path,
perpendicular to my westward trek
tomorrow, my friends, a different story
one tired boy
the long shadows
of my puppy,
asleep in the sun
exuberant
in explorer-mode, I stroll along
a newly discovered trail.
its path, dotted with hedge apples,
weaves and winds
through grassy woods, gentle hills
where cattle grazed, not so long ago.
I’m as thrilled as a child, the child I still remain,
transported beneath an autumn-blue sky
to a magic surround, one I don’t ever want to leave —
you can’t make me!
A Sawyer's Daughter 
Chit Chat