Repose
Church bells a
calling
lingers in thick
summer air.
Muffled voices
rise from ancient
resting places,
encircle the empty
church.
Stained-glass weeps of
loneliness, drip,
drip on skeletons
of black-eyed
susans. Spalling yard’s encircling
wall hangs in air
as stones tilt, fall
much as headstones
toppled.
Blank faces stare
into sun
as peregrine
falcon slices air
hangs atop
sycamore
ee-chup, ee-chup,
kack-kack-kack.
Another arrives as
eastern
screech owl barks,
then takes flight.
next to the black
stone marked
“free at last”,
songless carcass of sparrow
lays in repose.
Changes
She floats in a
torrent
of words, sips
coffee
tattoos the words
onto
a piece of marble.
When
complete sings the
words
off the page,
watches as
they drift across
land and
sea.
The moon is shrinking
it is shrinking as the wind
whispers in her ear. A
secret she cannot share.
Yet the words come
forth in metaphor
modifiers, images
as the moon slowly
turns it back on
earth, its belt beginning
to loop.
Across the road,
limbs of a Japanese Maple
leafless branches
and suckers shake, rattle
bole bends, soil
lifts and falls, flakes of
snow descends from
heaven.
The moon is shrinking
it is shrinking as the snow
whispers in her ear. A
secret she cannot share.
The eastern oceans
bulge
left western
oceans bulge
right moon is
shrinking
it is shrinking as
mist
whispers in her
ear. A
secret she cannot
share.
End of Summer
Autumn is bullying
summer
this early
September. Brown
sycamore leaves
scatter on
ground, blend with
shredded
summer bark. Mums
in garden
bed are budding,
asters purple
bloom, impatiens
are running
out of time.
Stems of cone
flowers, black-eyed
susans are
browning leading to
caps of petal less
heads picked
clean by gold
finches. Day lily
stalks rise from
mulched beds
for their last
visit of the year.
Colour abounds with
blooming
roses of pink, of
red, of white
as well as purple
heads of the turtles
white full blooms
of Hosta lilies
faded blooms of
hydrangea. Autumn
azalea in crimson
next to reddened
leaves of peonies
darkening each
passing day.
G. Emil Reutter is
a writer of poems and stories. He can be found at: https://gereutter.wordpress.com/about/
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