October 8, The Extraordinary Ordinary
An ordinary path across the lawn,
An ordinary bench beneath the trees,
Between the quiet daylight and the dawn,
Unfolding in a steady evening breeze.
October 7, The In Between
Too chill to sit, too bright to mourn,
A world half-stowed and half in bloom;
A sharp wind whispers through the thorn,
While shadows lengthen in the room.
October 6, Under an October Sky
No absolute dark in the yard tonight—
Where neighborhood lanterns glow and spill,
Paling the lawn in borrowed light,
While shadows lean against the chill.
October 5, Steady Comfort
Crescent moon and feathered clouds
swept across an impossible October blue.
October 4, Crown of the Spruce
High in the needle boughs, silent and still,
A monarch surveying the sweep of the hill
October 3, Morning Sentry
A bright red chair, an empty cup,
A watchful eye across the lawn.
October 2, Cycles on the Line
The clouds hang low, the air is mild,
A corridor of paved-over ground.
Where once a boy, unhurried, wild,
Chased frogs along the creek unbound.
October 1, The Threshold of Dawn
The house rests easy in deep morning blue,
Its warm golden windows keeping night’s watch,
While silent lawns glisten with silver-bright dew,
Under tall spires of towering scotch.
Prelude, Turning the Season
A calm gray blanket fills the skies,
Mild and still the morning wakes.
The air is soft before it flies
Into the season of frosty flakes.