—Patricia L. Nichol, Sacramento
October is the time
of terra cotta
persimmon
dead leaf fall
the tang of pomegranate
hovers in the air
on the tongue
released by ruby seeds
wood smoke soon will
lace the air
daylight turn dusky
and night overthrow the day
candles will be lit:
ruddy radiant flares
against the deadfall
of the coming dark
even with the darkening
of the year
life does not fall away
but is quiescent: seed, nut, root
—Carol Louise Moon, Sacramento
the sheer stillness of morning
the sniff and smell of scents
the smell of lawns greening
poof, a brilliant sunlit fence
and, poof, the sound of one poof
What was it heard by all?
What was meant by the
blue jay’s call that unstilled
the brilliant morning?
—Carol Louise Moon
Brown buteo above my head
without benefit of wind. Wood-
light echo on spiraling track,
I hear your call in summer’s tide.
I watch your knife-blade wings—you glide,
light-echo on spiraling track
without benefit of wind. Wood-
brown buteo above my head…
Today's LittleNip:
LAST MOON OF AUTUMN
—Carol Louise Moon
an old face, yet new—
after the other visitors
have left the park
(prev. pub. in BREVITIES, Vol. 129)