the heat of autumn

the music you stir
is knifing sweet as apple cider
you sing the words
with guitar strings cool as rose-ribbed lamp

if only they knew
you are flint that fires me up
striking at core, waking 
at first light, your name

on my lips, sudden rainfall
as if world leans away from 
scream of darkness 
to deep dive of blue kiss - 

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - MTB - Metaphorically Speaking - hosted by Bjorn Rudberg.  Title and poem inspired by Jane Hirsefield, The Heat of Autumn.

autumn dusk

as leaves turn
to autumn rust

my white roses bloom 
where once the soil was arid

extinct of fallen green apples  
(now) i hear buzzing bees, wild rabbits 

& flight of geese  
i watch as wrinkled sky quickly turns, 

swallows amber light, 
hungry as coyote

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille, hosted by Linda Lee Lyberg.  The word to be included for this 44 post is Extinction. Thanks for the visit.

Note:  I actually saw a pair of coyotes in the common park. The community is aware of this and all the signs are up to be careful with walking early morning or at night especially with pets.    This is the reality of urban living now, co-existing with these wild creatures peacefully. 

Smoke and mirrors

your words are smoke
elegantly cursive, seductive
at first sight.  your shadow
is gilded by moon-silver
and burning lies are painted 
festive sparklers to match your coat

you play with time, but time needs no coat 
to reveal your true desires under smoke
like curtains daggered to sides, faint
outline of you, plain to see, rusted
stripped away as when one holds shiver-
ing hands of a dying loved one.   shadows

grow from your eyes, spilling roses-
you drop your mask, unbuttoning coat     
showing me your mirror.   I am silver
by guilt, but here are words buried broke
awaiting light & forgiveness
and above all, love in all its colors




Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight.  Title inspired by our past poetics on this theme.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

a bottle of summer

you prescribed me
walk by maple trees
slow dance by creek

look, the sun is holding
a ladle of soup
to ward off the blues

of autumn-
color the flowers
fiery red, marmalade gold- sum-

mer pulses, caught in your canvas-
scent of fresh geraniums 
with burn of your kiss

Artist:   Beverly Dyer

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Hosted by Michelle Beauchamp (Mish).  We are featuring the beautiful art work by Beverly Dyer.   Her sites:  https://artprescription.com/  
ETSY shop     

footsteps on the hill

We hike on man-made hill, overlooking the city.   The sky is muted blue-grey, with caramel  warmth of the noon day sun.   On this day, we are grateful for many things - one is a free Monday, instead of going to work.   We talk about what we really love to do and toil away our hours without regard for money - arts, writing, reading, craft and gardening.   How we would enjoy our days, dotted with activities that fill us, as homemade banana bread and hot coffee and chocolate.   Still, we are thankful for the steady jobs that we have, and that allows us to pursue with passion the "other stuff".  Around us, the leaves of the maple trees are showing rust - a sign that summer is ending. We sweat it out, up the steep slope, our footsteps crunching the pebbles.

birds and bees feast
on crab apples on ground- red
autumn wind is rising

Grace @ EverydayAmazing

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday, hosted by Frank J.  Tassone.   Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Happy Labour Day!