humble before nature

given a choice

let’s always to defer to nature

acknowledging our humble place

as we strive to learn

rather than conquer

decision over returning

from ‘daylight saving’

would suit our position

in the universe better

with noon being when the sun

is highest over head

until we learn the true advantages

and disasters of skewing an hour

either way

nature has its own consequences

which we often learn to our sorrow

hungry colors

streaked purple-indigo clouds flung

rude across the struggling dawn’s

as yet undercooked pinks

and mushroom beige yellows

ravenous to devour sunrise

cloud screens

cloud screens

clouds gather to gossip

wisp-disperse to pass on notes

collect again shaped as news

art screens of horse in gallop

elm trees, sailing ships or seals

or as my kindergarten son informed me

“Look, Mom, there’s a man.

See his eyes and his chin

and there, under his nose

there’s his mustard.”

turning livid

 burnished, bruised orange and gold

oozing between layered purple clouds

resting for breath on the eastern horizon

over minutes, climbing, seeping mauves

capturing bluing sky and gray clouds

infuriating them with scarlet

reach to the heavens, livid for needing

to bleed the sunrise into day

my october birdseed tray

 haiku

black-capped chickadee

chest red orange as though joyous

basks in dawn-warmed seed

hunter’s moon

hunter’s moon

hunter’s moon whitewashed

the field in the night

highlighting evergreen boughs

as though laden with snow

leaving little place for a deer

to hide

yet this morning an antlered  buck

pranced through my yard

alive and well

to my relief

permission granted

haiku

whiskered dawn stretches

languid on east’s horizon

allowing day’s start

indoor-outdoor

images of grazing deer reflected on inane mystery

playing on my television screen remind me

there is more to learn and love in my yard

than on my idiot box

.

empty tray

california quail took months

to learn to lift to the elevated seed tray

but now muscle up beside one another

crowding to feed and clear hulls

backwards with their feet

emptying the tray, leaving nothing

for smaller wrens and chickadees

i wait until the quail have fed before

setting out each morning’s seed

lizard with deformed tail

lizard with long tail

forked and curled

into small, opposing semicircles

basking in the sun

does he worry about

his deformity?

is he accepted by other lizards?

is he a social outcast

in his world of individualists?

or is he merely warmed by the sun

and watching to catch any near-

flying insects with his agile tongue?

arched path of stars

clear night sky

stars seen, not through mist

or haze or light pollution

but sharp, distinct

welcome as childhood friends

when the Milky Way

was near solid path

arching above me

cedar lace

 cedar lace-filtered sunbeam

delicate pattern of filigreed shadow

on my palm as i capture

master artist’s light creation

before it reaches the forest floor

            Van Duzer corridor

needle pliers

fir and pine, evergreen and ever gossips

wiggle and bend together in their stands

needles clack and whisper as they knit

tales of the adventures of their seedlings

whose cones were carried afar

by birds and friendly winds

and horror stories

of the foolishness of man

gray-blue greeting

gray-blue morning

misted deep sky obscuring stars

chill fingers outside the covers

signs of autumn not coming

            but here

color preparation

autumn in the air

filtering summer’s brilliant

whites and yellows to warm

rather than sizzle-hot

as though through burnt orange lens

readying us for greens to re-dress

in red, umber, beige, muted gold

buttery browns, even blue

the colors of a fire in the hearth

in preparation for winter

first courage

black-capped chickadee

at leisurely breakfast

in the birdseed tray

ignoring the wrought iron bird

that so frightened all the wild

birds when my daughter first

set out the try

it was a lesson in avian learning

for me to watch the first scrub jay

who perched at the far side of the tray

pecking with half his attention

on that dark, unmoving shape

after his first bravery

so many have followed

and are now nonchalant

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pinker than yellow-black

chill, pink morning so autumnal

i walk not in fear

of yellow jackets swarming

from their ground nests

my porch and yard

are, finally, again my own

autumn coming

some of my grass is green

the sheltered areas mostly

that moving shadow helps protect

from photons in numbers staggering

to contemplate moving in straight

lines until reflected or refracted

burn my tender leaves of grass

to brown.

chatter silence

chatter like the isolated

human click language

too fast,  too nuanced

for outsiders to understand

squirrels emote, communicate

give vent – except the male

who scurries to the side of the road

as each car approaches

only to hurry back

to sit silent beside the body

of its mate or friend

who never made it across

realism with a bang

vivid brilliance, blinding

there and gone before our minds

can react and label such power

lightning

and then, low and grumbling

a guttural observation, thunder

that comes more fleetingly upon

the flare and grows more fierce

until each is upon us, overwhelming

terror

so primitive millennia of learning

accomplishments, gadgets

unwarranted pride dissolve into shaking, proper, realistic

humility