November 18, 2016

No longer soaring

Summer's reached her zenith,


And now is caught

In the immortal wane

Which casts over these woods

It's veil of fermentation

And farewell.

Weary greenery

Bored now of encroachment

Dons flavescent mien,

Less fervid the cicada song

And shadows crouch cooler—

Subtle portents

I see with sadness

Yet know I must accept.

At forest's edge

I note a gnarled, old pine

Tall against gilded sky


Please reload

Featured Posts


September 2, 2018

Please reload

Recent Posts

September 2, 2018

August 21, 2017

July 23, 2017

December 12, 2016

December 7, 2016

Please reload