Monday, October 4, 2010

Sleep, my sister, where art thou?

Wind, my brother, swirl through the socket, the window frame, the logs!
Cold, as if death brushes past and dissipates in the dry warmth of my room.

Moon, come quickly, before this shawl of cloud obscures your face.
Orion, you moved to my window, away from the study view.
Aurora borealis, no longer a frequent visitor, champagne in the night sky, why do you make yourself rare?
I will keep my alpaca hoodie right here, so that i can dance with you when you return.
My car is my castle.
Tripod, remote, mittens, headbands, downcoat, veggie chips and nuts will keep me from losing time when you finally arrive.
Fog climbs along reed grass, cat tails, dwarf willows. I like how soft it looks against the long set sun.

If i take the next exit and turn around right away, there might still be enough light to capture it.

But it will never look this pure again. White clouds rising from the meadows, wafting.
The fragrance of autumn.