I saw the maple flames last week.
Rain and wind and this square canvas
has returned to a simple line drawing.
A new beginning, a few remaining leaves
suggesting what the creator has in mind.
Female worker bees are working long hours
gathering autumn nectar for the colony’s winter.
Like me, they’re storing carbohydrates and protein
for when they stay inside, although unlike
bees, I hope not to die there.
or the second day of Christmastide or
St. Stephen’s Day. It is when servants
expected to receive a Christmas-box of presents,
food or money. We all expect something
in this cold, dark end of year.
The birds sense winter coming this morning.
Sparrows flutter, fight and search the eaves
for hiding places from the next season.
Blue jays, cardinals, chickadees, all anxiously feeding,
reminding me of things still left undone.
This year was the summer that wasn’t.
Circumstances made the months pass us unnoticed
It was a Southern hemisphere season here.
A winter landscape when summer was due.
Our world’s axis tilted from the sun.