gray november

A soft gray shawl, pulled
in around the earth, warm, wispy,
near: November sky

 *

Invisible birds embroider November:
Long satin whistling,
twitters picked and clustered,
french knots
in a gray flannel sky.
And at brown bushes
and leafbare branches,
they loop their songs,
crochet their lace around
the world's winter border.

 *

this warm november
the sky
is soft and gray and sweet
sad
like a beloved, outgrown toy

damp and close on the earth
and on shoulders
pressing down the corners of your eyes

it says, curl up your toes
your eyes look tired
sit down awhile
sleep

*

let's be bears today
it's too damn cold to get up
november morning

haiku september

less angry sun. The waspsbuzz around the eaves, the bush,
buzz loud, do not rest

one last rose, magenta
magnificent, full blown, drops
lazy petals down

the grass, full green, strewn
with dropped leaves dried to old gold,
smells dry, smells warm, smells sweet

sometimes through the gold
still air, a furtive giggle,
a hint: fall visiting