YANKEE SUMMER So scarce, fleeting here. Bursts of green; long, golden days. Warmth not long to stay.
NOCTURNAL Piercing the silence, Through the open window a Howl; nature intrudes.
WOOD SPRITES Dappling sunlight. Winding, rocky path; only Alone can I hear.
MOONLIGHT Framed by dark, plump leaves A sliver beam casts magic, Dispelling the dark.
WILD Other rules apply, Of how you live, how you die. And yet I can hear, Sounds of distress, sounds so near Drawing me towards the wood.
INSPIRATION Long walk, quiet place. With only sounds of nature, Where ideas flow.
SEPTEMBER WHOOSH! Plunk! What was that? That noise? In the trees? Listen… Falling crab apples!
THE CARDINAL Always I stop, stare That arresting deep red plume I know what is said A messenger from beyond I know not but I do hope
DUSK Music in the air, Of birds singing, chattering; The day’s last encore.