A Humble Fall Arrangement

Ear cocked and loaded with listen (for you, for the air
moving before you like ladies, maidens of this misty fall,
of reds and oranges, yellows, fiery golds clawed from that
pale fading blue summer sky by the rakey-fingers of trees
and hung out to dry in their leaves)…

my table happy with me, as I have set its favorite
plate, and cup and saucer (blue also fading to cream-white
and chipped, with better eye for placement than Pollack,
and of course that pitcher cold and wet
with thick and sweet cool creamer)

beside each place are pastries, made
by me (my oven is still warm, still glowing with
brief bread memories oh so heavenly,
the presence of yeast and sugar, flour and fruit
and then pleasant exhalations and sighs of fresh hot bread)

I love this humble fall arrangement,
and the bracing air arriving
(along with you, completing the placing
there, across from me, and our hot pot of tea
singing there twixt you and me)

 

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Your Light Feet

Did I hear you there, your footsteps near
approaching on the shore?

I’ve held your heart while we, apart
await that open door.

I never knew your spirit true
was keeping me in tact

Until that day, and you away
did go with no glance back.

Was distance great and casual fate
a mountain far too high?

No matter, dear, my spirits cheer
for your light feet step nigh.

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