Tag Archives: Autumn

night walker

7 Oct

There is a small blooming algae

that has come to the creek

that I walk over,

that I cross in the night

carrying my little baggie of bread for the turtles of all sizes.

The blooming has covered the surface in chartreuse

which swirls now as the turtles swim beneath.

Oh, the mystery of a turtle’s mouth as it lunges

beneath the psychedelic dance of green.

Where to toss the bread becomes a guessing game

of chance. How can this night so much the same

as every other night be a world transformed yet again?

No sky is ever the same;

no tide rises to the exact same spot, ever;

all pleasure is solitary and small and everything.

There are so very few who could understand

how secretly happy I am, in the dark,

so alone,

at last no one to tell about my small, singular,

exploding life.

A woman is a powerful being

in her blossoming

which comes long after

anyone can see,

yet her fragrance

is a potion

blessing invisibly, generously

behind her gypsy grin and laugh,

she, a twirling skirt of ascension.

through whose eyes do i see?

1 Oct


the cats do not care

one tiny bit that it is tuesday,

nor does the  moon –

shining itself in part and in shadow,

over meows of greeting and hunger.

The rolling out of the garbage

is now a job done in the dark.

3 cats   –    the moon   –   and me:

each with eyes for seeing and skin for feeling

the cooling morning air.

Essays in queue waiting  to be graded – shall I number them all?


What needs to be done will be done and instead I ask

whose eyes do I choose to look through in this moment:

skin,   fur,   or   rocky shell?

Should I add that there are also

eyes behind the veil  that

I cannot see, but I feel them

watching too?

Flying out –

I rub my growing, grey-tone belly,

taking in

what is below,

readying for

one last ripening

before the harvest.

%d bloggers like this: