In Autumn

Down A Rural Road Down a rural road, Watching the sun’s rays rising, Through skeletons Of emaciated barns. The steaming thaw Of frozen fields, The frayed stripes of an American Flag, Whipping in the wind. A few cows, A random house, The occasional billboard announcing, A new golf course. December Day Slowly afternoon Makes evening It is the color Before night Regrets begin here What was intended Was this morning But without warning Came to what is now Tea made from water Boiled on the stove Season’s gray sea Above us still and continuous Possibly could the hours Be made to last a bit more For they were made once before To keep the light longer Warm belly I feel calm and strong Content with the contexts That what isn’t is okay Watching the dog running Through the yards Then back out to the open field To his scolding master We have our own definitions And with that I pardoned My ambitions Half Moon Two dogs bark, Off in the random dark. Their echo’s ride the wind, Carrying prayers within. For ears to drink, And minds to think, That the half moon in the sky, May be God’s winking eye. Oasis The pond has come to be covered By a green sludge of grass clippings And the moss that grows on such surfaces. The fountain still blossoms It’s crystal flowers And the sound of their landing, A steady and calming melody. The Red-Tip blackbirds Chase through the cattails, As the bullfrogs croak And the locust have arrived To pass day to the cricket’s night. The moon is a sliver of itself, A fingernail of God’s hand Pointing to direct the lost man, Who squats by the water’s edge. He can’t see his reflection here And that is the reason he is looking, It is safe here among the so called wild, His back to the jungle of homes, This oasis rescues him from every day, Even in winter, When all is a silent frozen gray.