The Deep Brown Leaves of Autumn

I have always loved 
the bright and glorious 
colors and aromas
of our Kentucky autumns.

I love them, still.

But I've grown to appreciate all the

imperfect and worn browns
and leather
and mahogany leaves,
all the dried fallow
and empty acorn

that fill the woods and fields

without all the fanfare of

the beautiful reds and golds

that Autumn brings.

The well-worn lines and veins
of old leaves

tempered and burned in 

shades of bronze

have a depth and weight

that is tangible and abiding.

The deep brown leaves of Autumn

sear the memories of the year

and linger with a crisp sobriety

long after the golden

and ruby leaves have fallen and faded.

A Leaf Upon a Tree

I was, for a moment,

a leaf upon a tree

and the leaf, for a moment,

was me...

I billowed most glorious

in a soft autumn wind

and the leaf, for her part
sipped hot tea

On the Smell of Leaves

I gave my stamp of approval 
to the leaf
set her down
and moved on to the next

...I wish I could write the aroma
of a good fall leaf.

Better yet, if I could tell

the smell

of a hill

of freshly raked leaves.

Golden brown

earthen scent

fresh baked from each tree.

Rich, yet simple,

oak, yet maple,

hardy antique wooden smell

of childhood memories.

Full of life escaping

as they collectively breathe their last

sweet breath

to the ground below.

It's the bread of the season

that smooth

Grandfather autumn smell.

Wet Weather Hikes

The rain was drizzling down to nothing 

as we pulled up to the farm... 

this, on a day that promised nothing

 but gray skies and downpours. 

The sun was even making a 

goodwill effort to 

poke through the clouds and so, 

with no guarantees, 

we took a wet weather hike.

This hike was especially magical and life-full. 

We saw four fresh, shiny-baptized box turtles 

(two very amorous ones) 

and many toads. 

We had butterflies flittering around us 

the whole way and 

saw two large pileated woodpeckers and 

heard and saw many other birds. 

 

The trees glowed green.

As we finished the dragonfly loop trail, 

the clouds returned and, 

shortly thereafter, 

so did the rain, 

as we raced back to the dry house.

I think wet weather hikes - 

just after or between storms - 

may be some of the best. 

There is a life that pours out of the ground 

like no other times.

She Dreamed

She dreamed of 

a rampaging river

ripping through the night sky

She dreamed of impossible

made practical

and doubtful

giving it a try

She dreamed of worlds clashing

and uniting

of day and and night

of digging deeper holes

of black and white

and all the colors, implied in between

She dreamed 

of magick and mastery

of fear and flight 

of hope and horror

despair and fright

but mostly

hope

Mostly

she dreamed of Hope

.

And then

she woke up

filled her cups with water

and took them 

to the river

and poured them deep within.

Like an Oak Leaf Aging

I stood in the wood
and studied the oak leaf aging,
I observed the sweet gum 
shining in the sun
and the sycamore 
as she stood there, playing...

there was more glory and grace
in that one dying leaf
as she fluttered
half hidden in the shade,
more mystery and power
and hope and life
than I had ever dared pray

Like a Mountain

When the lights finally came on

he was there, like a mountain

like a mountain

that had gone somehow unseen

and once he'd been seen

there could be no more disappearing

for the shadow he cast

was immense

Beneath the Night Sky

Beneath the night sky

there is a solid darkness

and oh, so much more