autumn’s cup runneth over
the clouds
reach fingertips down
brush my cheek
as i wander
wonder
at the paintbox
feast
served up
as appetizer
for a main course
of grey
geese bleed through the fog
like ghosts
or mirage
circling the table
yet again
hungry always
for the flavor
of spring
.
.
.
October 2nd, 2014 at 8:26 am
We are all sitting at the same table here in the clouded east this morning, and you serve the words to feed us all.
October 2nd, 2014 at 8:12 pm
rather haunting image of the geese…i will take the paintbox of fall…and then look forward to it again at spring…