As the Wheel Turns

yellow aspen (1)


And the colour wheel cranks out

its liturgy – opposites 

make the best bedfellows,

draw out the richest blooming.


So too this heart, when double

crushed, rises atmospheric

to negate the blow. So too 

this spirit, pinned to velvet

specimen case, dead carcass

to be pitied, inspected,

finds truest freedom within

its prison walls, flying high

above those who would take it

captive, coerce dignity,

boxing it in mere metal

and glass. Deepest pain reflects

truest beauty, once redeemed.


And the colour wheel cranks out

its curriculum – bluest 

skies display the purest gold.


The Loom

sunset Sask Landing


With shuddering of shuttle,

the warp meets the weft – Autumn’s

art in sunset tapestry.


Rhythmic cycle weaves copper

to crimson, scarlet to gold,

pattern passed down from ancient


hands. Loose threads are expertly

battened, strung between starry-

crisp nights and harvest-filled days


building texture as leaves (and

cloth) are shed, Autumn’s nimble

fingers flying to keep up.