SETTLING

The old, weathered maple
leans into the sun, its trunk
stroking the cobbled cottage
which sits against the foothill.
The square window peers out
over a wildflower garden
as the roof’s peakline
settles comfortably
into old age.
Walking around it I see
the back roof has collapsed
the back wall ever threatening
to return to the earth
of its mountain home.

EDGE OF WINTER (FOUR HAIKU)

The clouds build slowly
threatening to overtake
the maple’s red leaves.

October cloud knives
Slice branches from saddened trees
Leaves fall in mourning

Dogs peer at dawn’s sky
And slowly don winter coats
Knowing geese take flight

Tomorrow the snow
Will not fall from evening clouds
But soon, very soon

DUSK

As the afternoon fades,
the gray of the sky deepens,
the crows gather
in the highest branches
of the older trees,
until the leafless branches
seems suddenly burdened
with great black leaves.
As the already waning light fades
they take up their hymns
to the passing day, approaching night,
and we wait patiently
amid the cacophony
for the final refrain
of this solemn Mass,
when the oak and maple pews
will again sit starkly vacant.