The energy of the earth flows through the veins of springtime.
seasons
Ravish
it is raining!
no, not water
from clouds
but dead leaves
from july trees
scorched by
a brutal heat
too sunburnt
to evergreen
falling, fallen
brittle brown
leafy teardrops
raining down
the dry warm
forlorn face of
mother earth
Unreasonably warm in Phoenix
We live in an Arizona desert town
where winter is brown and green
and summer is green and brown
with 300 annual days of sunscreen
our autumn’s unreasonably warm
and springtime is mostly too hot
here we live for every rainstorm
and the seasons—well, they’re not.
Winter sparks
snowflakes fall from the sky
in peppermint perfection —
i kiss you with quivering lips
but cold is not the reason —
you set my winter heart on fire
and keep me warm all season
Seasonal emotions
Shedding late-summer tears for the end of cherry season. Patiently and hopefully waiting for pumpkin pie season.
Autumn’s wake
leaves dancing
in a brisk breeze
on an almost-bare tree
joyous at autumn’s wake
they tremble, ready
to be free, to sleep
with past seasons —
dying, they celebrate
the awakening of winter
Spring flight & grounding
Butterflies dot springtime with flitting airy kisses.
Barely knowing
Spring and summer come with a lush layer of foliage over reality, but when things start falling away in the autumn and get bare and stark in the winter we’re forced to look at things more as they really are, including ourselves.
Sonoran seasons
Winter in Phoenix is springtime
Spring is summer askew
Summer is torturous hellfire
Autumn is summer part II
Desert winter departing
early February in the desert —
the sun is springtime warmth
the breeze, winter’s leftovers
Muted striations
sand-dust with cream
intensely mauve’d rust
velvety blue-grey-indigo —
layers of early winter’s
desert dawn horizon
Brisk breezes
weathered winter leaves
skip and tumble down the road
racing towards the spring
Blend & blur
late winter and early spring blend and blur
in pleasant days and chilly nights
penetrating sun and gentle cool breezes
with stirrings of life, subtle and green —
mornings that light ever earlier rouse us, but
sunsets that still come in evening’s youth lull