fall number 2

Fall
how luminous you are:
a bright green door thinking
during a pickled morning frost

the gray morning sky
the same as the evening
Time has hushed her hair and mouth
clouds turn
placid tentacles
of silver milk placenta moving
like seaweedacross the tall horizontal plain


contrast

ignites the treehills on fire
with electric green from the october coil
green white yellow hum
charred the light and infused it
with sun from a wild dream that smelled like Jasmine

and the smell of stamped
wet tracks; the red rusty footprint
of the dead old pine needle
on the damp black pavement (slate oil)
(in a line they look like racoon hands painted autumn

the sweet dog smell of rain
skirting the road, you know
the trees love this smell
and they quiver in dazzlement
of their new radiance
against the brood





the light through glass
makes translucent lace
by shadow dance
on the bright cream wall.