Slate-grey winds beckon
an inauspicious August
marking the end of
a moody Irish summer
the starburst sunshine
long since past
more legend than memory
as rain falls in silent sheets
Tag: summer
Autumn sunrise
verdant landscape
beams in
naïve optimism
each year choosing
to forget the sun,
swollen with untempered power;
supple stems stiffen
involuntary camouflage
against once-moist soil
now nature’s adobe
stacked
to the horizon, and
pining for an autumn sunrise
Midday tyrant
The midday tyrant
is a jealous god,
outshining
all that dare share its space
verdant summer stems
oft defiant
bow their stems
in faux reverence
rising tall
in the dark
A million twirls
Air’s essence suffers
an identity crisis
chopped into a million
twirls by spinning
fan-blades
yet worry not
each breeze is among
many friends
First week in San Diego
Indian summer drizzle –
air thick, leaving memories
of west Florida, nights
still eternally hot, never knowing
when to head home,
last guest at a party
thrown by Nature
the Sun having long since
headed home;
he’s got work in the morning.
Their final fall
Photograph by Andrew Mackay
Petals crowding, swirling
in a gyre, each melon-pink
awaiting their final fall
where they will lie,
for a beautiful soundless wake.
Giggling sunbeams
Photo by Andrew Mackay
Giggling
sunbeams gather close
sometimes behind thin clouds
leaving little to the imagination;
Emerging, erupting
new shoots see saviors
browning grass, new tyrants
until the Earth turns,
there is no higher master.
Breathing summer
Photo by Andrew Mackay
Breathing summer
dappled sunlight like
black coffee,
bit by bit it filters through
to invigorate
every view stitched
into a quilt stored
in mind’s obscurity
brought out in
darker days
to warm one’s future
soul.
Summer symphonies
Of all the summer symphonies
free in town squares and verdant parks
the grandest program
spring forth from crickets
their sound surging
in warm, damp darkness
crescendo
then fall, each
movement a
single second
always beginning anew.
Summer beckons
Speckled sunshine
spirals
on pale skin
a siren’s call
to future sunburn.
Unspoken Politics 