betwixt betweens

on the edge of the green leaves

comes the beginnings of the red

in the midst of a mid-day, sun-drenched walk

the rain comes swiftly

sunrise turns grey, grey turns pink

apples fall into my hands

pears overflow my pantry

snakes relish the damp and the slowly falling leaves

in the morning

my bike seat

is wet.

He came back brown

fresh, muscles well used, tendons stretched

pleasure sought - found

his stride long again - there is something new.

purpose?

ah luvlie,

she said, you've done so much

she said, you've changed.

she said, its just beginning.

I've watched the leaves turn.

now i think they never stop turning

its just one big ol' turn

yet another hue

for the next chapter and verse

of the season.

am i turning red too?

my tan is fading.

the call is clearer -

Simplicity.

Beauty.

quietly surprised -

there you are (again)

working. are you well-tethered?

i wonder where is your wondering.

are you alligning

your own turning a bit slower - is that a glass of red wine?

leaning-easy, overlooking drifting leaves

onto the street corner's brook

the bees are fretting, honey-making

they feel the sharp winds gathering

and our hive - fretting, hallucinating

markets turmoiling

they say we don't have much time I'm

oddly grateful

if the world is collapsing at least I

am experienced

in picking up the pieces

practiced in building

from the shards of broken sentences

a house of poetry

and laughter