TACENDA

you tear the still-warm sheets from the bed
last of November's mild days to line-dry
beyond the pond, prisms glimmer
two singular droplets
on two twig-tips
shimmer into
stars
  °  

©2013 Ravenna Taylor

Butterfly Bush Remembers the Glint of Swallowtail's Wings

Too little of sleeping for so much feeling, I begin to look forward.

No, not so: I look ahead and behind, I watch my footfalls, I scan the sky.

I peer across the pond, through unseen limbs
trees no longer tracing
a plane at middle-ground. I avert my eyes
from the raw skin; at the join, my heart lags.

 ©2013 Ravenna Taylor

All Saints

All Saints’

mineral ochre leaves of trees

glazed with damp today

shed to shield the russet ground

faster - heavy as snowfall -

yonder in the clotted sky

metal plumbous clouds

No petal yellow warmth reflecting

No pushing up the warming waves

No lifting slipping season high

- don't let it fall to shards

hardened earth, O kindly sky

©2013 Ravenna Taylor