Postcard: Dated: Present

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There was no seal to be slit open.

My attention flipped over.

The scenes held in my hand.

The evening light crowned trees like a stamp.

Someone paid postage with beauty.

 

On one side color rose with the setting sun

and an angled glow skipped over

the folds in the fields.

Darkness tucked in for the night

under peaks of deeper greens and golds.

 

On the other side sparse words,

tight, lean, black ink spread apart

on white unlined space.

I am Love.

Thinking of you.

Soul Tunes; The Music Of Fall Approaches

autumn woods

There begins a song.

Low and unnoticed.

The percussion of leaves

and nuts ironed underfoot.

 

The troubadours of autumn

overhead and overheard.

They tune up as

their formation points south.

 

Cooler breezes play off

the trees falling fingers.

Like air through a harmonica

notes stagger in stereo.

 

This time is for slowing down

as nature strolls and stares.

It blushes while

it prepares to undress.

 

Autumns fashions clothe my soul.

I too, blush as summer wanes.

All the heated growth laid bare

and tones slip to a minor key.

 

Here begins a soul song,

one of color and exposure,

of laying down my coverings

before You.