Wild South Hill

   we watch the
weather roll
      over this hill;

we see mists 
   slide down 
      towards us,

      sometimes
bringing snow.

we run a tab
with nature,
      fools if we 
   forget this.

   when we are 
least prepared, 
      perhaps; it 
will come due.

   mists and clouds
      obscure the
hilltop in autumn.

snow, in winter
   reminds us
we don't go
      up these
hills so well.

these are our
   autumn days.
   it isn't over;
      the view is
fine, from here.

Caribbean Rain

Caribbean Rain

last time was exotic
tile roofs waiting
in early morning rain.

maybe it was here
we saw pelicans,
marine iguanas,

rain, tropical rain.

looking through
glass, we see a
certain welcome

a welcome
of a certain kind.
rains taper off.

rain, tropical rain

peaceful warm rain 
does not alarm
in any way

instead, it soothes.
(been wet before
and always dried)

Leaves and Grass

Leaves and Grass

      today is 
   a new thing
warmer than 
      i thought
it would be.
 
   brighter, no rain
fireworks celebrate
something i forget.

we look for rain
      when we are 
   so parched
   as this our 
tired earth,

   a fallen leaf  
      in grass,
an old friend 
(we loved) 
      who now
   is fallen, fallen leaf
(unforgotten now)

when we are gone,
   who will take up
   our memories?

   bright stories
      capture all
possibilities.

sadly, light fades
   (it will return)
   and darkness
covers everything.
      we sleep

Autumnal

Autumnal

   this time of year
our world begins
      to chill,

   so we wonder
why we're here
      as light 
   grows dim

and air gets cold
      but not too
   cold to breathe

   today, october,
      colours
   start to fade

except for trees
      which go to
   red and golden

   (a million leaves
have lost their green
      and changed)

   this time, this
      change (is a 
beautiful thing)

it decorates our 
   cooling world 
and cheers us
      once again.

Blackened Barn

Blackened Barn

      roasting in 
   hot sunshine, 
hundreds of years,

it can't share 
      its stories
the laughter 
   and the tears,

beautiful wood
colours, burned
      to black,

   no reason to
      stand tall,
no purpose
   any more...

      the old black
buildings lean,
   falling slowly,

      rotting 
      wooden 
foundations
   crumble 
      to dust

      any nails
   that may 
   be found
turn slowly 
      into rust.

   still something
there appeals to us.
      hope that
things went well,

sometimes, there
might be stories
   but no-one's 
      left to tell.

Red October Berries

      some fine 
   afternoon
i may confess.

uneaten berries
      do not tempt.
until i see a little

   bird eat these
       and not die
   i won't touch.


   not far away
i saw a viper
   surrounded

by chattering
      people, all
the way around!

      it had no escape.
   i crouched nearby
and made a photo.

oh, see how smart
      i am, shooting
   from feet away!


      some fine
   afternoon
i may confess.

uneaten berries
      do not tempt.
until i see a little

   bird eat these
      and not die
   i won't touch.