4 – Harvests of Autumn

The Harvests of Autumn
Start with September’s sad apples
The trees are now weary
From months in gestation
Their branches like bellies
Hang swollen and low
Not able to pick themselves
Up any longer
They wait for delivery
Their moment of grace

While there for the blossoms
And the time of conception
You missed their long season
Went elsewhere to play
But you’ll arrive eager for delivery
Fruit from their birthing held in your hands
And a mouth full of something
That you’d like to say

3 – Here Again

Here Again
This place, these people
Why did I return?
Again
To a page already colored
No matter how poorly
By my experiences
Then
No matter how vaguely recalled
Or inadequately lived
Then

But I am here again
Left to my own devices
But I have no directions or answers
Only questions and broken devices

What about now?
What about this time…
This day and weekend
This morning, this hour
What about this moment?
How can I touch it and touch you
More lightly
Allow it to be more real
Have myself be more present in it
And live it like new
Not life reviewed
Not grasping and held onto
Not granite to be cleft in two

But I am here again
Left to my own devices
But I have no directions or answers
Only questions and broken devices

I am in love
With my thoughts
That poor compass of self
From their sharp, jagged continual judgments
That only head south
To the soft-spoken, wistful wishes and wants
That swing wildly as if I had no True North
I follow them along
Like Hansel and Gretel
With no crumbs for a trail
Providing only convincing arrogance
They know where they are headed
Now I have ended up
Deep in the forest of uncertainty
Of who I am and
Where I am going

But I am here again
Left to my own devices
But I have no directions or answers
Only questions and broken devices

2 – The Aspen Leaves

The Aspen Leaves
Heart shaped
Lying flat, still in the sky
For so long – all Summer
Hung perfectly, so evenly spaced last Spring For this moment

They now have changed their calm
Even minds
Flutter madly
Scarecrows
Their shine now flickering
Flashing at us like pie plates
Shooing and frightening away the flocks
Of visitors and vacationers
From this place

Why don’t they want us here –
Have we harmed them?
Why don’t they want us any longer –
Have we not been conscious of them?
What do they know –
That we do not?

I join in the parade
Among the countless players
In the endless line of bands
Who pass in front of the grandstand
That is the end of Summer
We move off Island, off Cape
Off cottage and camp

We think we are leaving
Ahead of high winds and hard rains
Season of hurricanes
An orderly evacuation
Following the route
… We are not
We are being sent away
Before being swept away

Our one leaf
In a mighty wind
This season or next
This day or another
We think we are saying our good-byes
But we are being told
In so many ways
It has ended

1 – The Crows

The Crows
Still call you awake
But further off today
Not so intensely nagging
In your ear
You can listen peacefully to them
As if the trouble was no longer in your house
But safely down the street

Relief

You lay there listening
For the first time
In a long time
Something touches your skin
Lightly, new tender coolness
Fresh against you
Can you let this, allow this
This Autumn to be
To become
Your next Lover?

Release