brown autumn

No one typically chooses brown to describe autumntime, 

But there is so much to say about a color that holds so much inside

That it lets the other colors shine. 

The colors of the sun, 

As it fades at summer's end—

Yellow, red, and orange are hidden in brown.

Dandelions and leaves—

In autumn at its start—

Are yellow hidden in brown. 

Pomegranates and the blush 

On gala apples in autumn

Are the red hidden in brown. 

Pumpkin patches and dusky sunlight

Reflecting on lake glass 

Are the orange hidden in brown. 

Fields of turned over soil ready for winter's rest

And an old farm truck rusting where it rests 

Are the brown in autumn 

That no one thinks to revel in 

Like piles of drying leaves 

Strewn on top of summer's grass.

to and fro

Where did you go, my dear, my darling friend?

Are you lost going to and fro in the dark, dark night?

I never thought there could be an absolute end, 

From sharing one heart to this deafening dark washed out in blinding light. 

Your love's loss takes my breath and bites

With a sharpness I can hardly stand; 

I can only think to stand and fight

For the chance to once again have you hold my hand, 

My friend, the owner of the love I never planned

To give away so freely and for eternity,  

That light at the end of the tunnel was a contraband

That we never paid the toll on for our steadfast amity.

Where have you gone?

I have stood here too long.

dandelions

exhaustion, my friend

beauty growing in the cracks 

stems of spent wishes

reflect

Light on water and on the land 

Finds a way to glimmer even on sand

Water reflecting the truth and light showing the way

Telling us that light is carried from day to day

The rocks in pockets push the feet into the ground

Step by step, the world keeps turning

And all the while a smile cannot be found

Step by step, the years and tears were burning

Light on water glimmering like glass

Truth burning holes into hearts

Taking steps away from it all

Turning hardship into a hell

Reflect the light before we cannot 

See anything at all

chihuahuas

The future is bright, they say. 

Opportunity is knocking, they say. 

You have the world at your feet, they say. 

Good things come to those who wait, they say. 

And so they say so many things, but all I can think is

Trepidation is biting at my heels 

Like a rabid chihuahua, 

And I really just need the loud, crowded voices to quiet down 

And show me the way to where 

I should head as I find my way

Into the hopefully bright 

Yet unknown, 

Hopefully successful 

Yet who knows anything anymore

Except for them

Future.