Crouching here
Twined in the roots of this
gigantic oak
I attempt to forget lunch
forget my job
forget myself

Right now
Here in this instant
I’m trying to see
to savor
To touch this moment
Because there is something under this moment
Something immense
beyond all comprehension
Something is here
And I can almost touch it . . .

Fire Near My Heart

And for one moment
One perfect Autumn moment
I was glacial
Alive as the leaves burnt for the first time
In cathedrals of scarlet and amber

I pick up this exquisite structure
This unrepentant slap in the face of Entropy
This water that has run uphill
This thing of Earth which has been lifted . . .

I pick up this leaf
And fold it like hands in prayer
Put it here in this pocket
So that in the coming Darkness
I will know its fire
Near my heart . . .

Autumn Reflections

You are in place where the Moongate crosses the dappled waters
Claude Monet would have reflected this in misty shades of autumn
Van Gogh would have reflected this perfected
striking madness in shades of amber and ocher
You reflect on the gently undulating waters
a tuft of scarlet leaves behind you left ear

You made daisy chains here in the summer of your childhood
You are afraid to walk here at night
The reflected leaves still clinging to the trees
shout riotous color collages as they chance dance the zephyrs

One man crosses the bridge
Engrossed in a spherical little universe
that he wears like a bee keeper’s hat
He speaks to no one in particular
as he rattles off figures and tactics
He died when she refused his love
And you knew him then

A bicycle meanders the paved walk under the bridge
The man carries noting else on the bike
You wonder where he is going
You wonder if he is going anywhere
You wonder . . .

You close your journal
Paint a social face onto your features
Your reflection disappears . . .