In, through the crack
between Earth and the heavens,
slips the imperfect day.
Autumn is full of butterflies. Or so it seems to me.
Sometimes, as in the picture at the top of the post, it is only the visual echo of a butterfly. Sometimes, as in this fragment, it’s a memory of summer:
From among the fallen leaves, the wind
lifts a broken butterfly wing
and gives it flight.
Continue reading “an echo of butterflies”
outside my window
the neighbour’s yellow Mini
Sadly, that’s not the way it looks out there at the moment; instead, it’s decidedly grey.
Still, the forecast shows surprisingly little rain for in the foreseeable future and it looks as if we may get a brief sunny spell this afternoon. Even if we don’t, the parked cars are nice and bright.
A gust of wind startles
all the yellow birds of autumn
from their treetop perches
The idea of autumn leaves as birds is a recurrent theme for me, and I’ve posted several variations on the blog over the years, though not that exact phrasing, I don’t think. But it isn’t just flying leaves that are notable at this time of year.
Continue reading “autumn birds”
Sound of raindrops;
patter from the sky
Continue reading “shades of autumn”