Fire on hillside and gray frost on field—
storm of iron cloud gives way to bright sun.
Red maple stands stripped where mockingbird trilled
in August; for now, his carol is done.
Galls on witch hazel leaves will hold charges:
next generations of beetles and wasps.
Chipmunk answers instinctual urges
as sunset calls up first of winter’s cusps:
hard freeze in concert with bone-biting breeze.
Doe hooves imprint in ice-crackled asters.
Grasshopper chirps no more of summer’s ease.
Mosquito army no longer musters;
spider hides her eggs in woodland clutter,
while days wax crisp, yet wane ever shorter.
I’m pretty busy these days. It’s been a pretty wearying month and a half since school started, and I feel like things are going to be this busy until March. Been sick the last few days with a throat and post-nasal drip problem that kicked up a notch last night around 1 am, which was no fun. On the other hand, there’s some exciting things going on, so it’s not necessarily so bad.
For interested poets that I’ve asked about coming to recite/perform at school: I submitted my request, and a dozen dates for possible performances for five poets, on September first. I’m still waiting for a direct answer.
