Under Surveillance
Deer jump the fence to criticize
the taste of leaves and flowers.
Rabbits check the greenness
of the grass in our backyard.
Wild turkey promenade the street
to check our curb appeal.
Our nosy neighbors tell us
everything we need to know.
***
A Saint for a Season
Saint Audrey of Autumn
leaves miracles of color
on every horizontal
surface of the day.
Trees shiver as she ambles
into sunlight that grows softer,
and leaves shadows
in the meadows where
the dandelions once swayed.
The days grow sad and shorter,
and her amble turns to hobble
when the winds cool hours
into winter snow.
***
Too Much Noise
Silence hid in the linen closet,
behind the towels and mildew.
So much safer, safer
in the shadows than reduced
to tears, exposed to slaps of
whack-whack-whack from
ceiling fans, to crackling static
cackling lights. Too loud,
she said, to hear me whisper
of the summer fading into
slant-light autumn, whisper
of the maple leaves adorned
in early lipstick red.
You can find me in the shadows,
cuddled up with hope that winter
chill will stay outdoors
and snowfall will be brief.
published in Medusa's Kitchen:
and in Substack:
Comentarios