Resilient Genes

The frosts have come,

their task complete;

botanic carnage

at fall’s feet,

but you retain

your bright green glow –

how  is it done?

I need to know

why some survive

the holocaust,

and others drop

when all seems lost.

Have you a secret

coping means?

Or do you have

resilient genes?

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Harvest Moon

Harvest moon, you nod and wink

at farmers working hard below

to gather in what’s on the brink

of being smothered by the snow.

What insects we must look to you,

who wisely rule the sky above;

remind our hearts that earthly views

are trumped by those whose rays are love.

‘V’ is For Fall

‘V’ is for fall,

living arrows on a southward spiral,

pointing out the obvious –

Autumn arrives with strings attached.

Snows and North Gales

are on the end of that umbilical cord,

so ‘V’ is for fall;

 fowlish flesh

make haste for calmer climes,

honking farewell

to natal stars,

leaving cracked eggshells

as a deposit

guaranteeing spring.

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I live beneath an incredible migratory path – this time of year, the skies are resonant with honks and wings of untold number.  Their annual pilgrimage marks the seasons for the mortals who toil beneath their flight path.

Rise Again

Strangled by frost’s fists,

your cells surrender.

Cytoplasm spills from pores

hard-pressed by mercury’s plunge.

It is time.

Time to beat a hasty retreat,

seal off summer’s silhouette

and lay up treasures

for seasons to come.

Capitulation, not abandonment;

acquiescence, not succumbing.

After your pupal pause,

 Sun caresses your dead skin;

you will

rise again.