From 2016. I’m not able to be here so often now but, again, hope you’re all well.
I was inspired yet again by the fabulous, sock monkey.
for the Waxwing,
summer withers
sending the bare bones
of blooms to exit; their shift over
high up on defoliated twigs,
these sturdy spires become crows nests –
for one last look at sparse reminders
and stark remainders
and perched reverently
with subdued crest, rakish black mask
and brilliant-red wax
droplets fallen on tail feathers –
splashes of hot springs
long before flames burned out,
they are temporary beacons
for the Indian summer
as birds gradually disappear
like iron filings
falling from silky paper
soon they will fly south
for winter before shivers ruffle
silver grey feathers, autumnal
splendour from its box of tricks
is spilt and trickery dazzles us
with cooler combinations
of life clothed in warmer
costume
like petrified stone,
stygian contours champion the night sky;
dulled for now, but grey streaks charm
expectations sat on the horizon
where…
View original post 97 more words
As it Comes 