The year turns
a shoulder
cold.
Discarded leaves –
yellow,
scarlet,
bronze –
drift, settle, and
rust.
Flocks tumble
southward in dark arcs.
A stumble in
the evening choir’s
collective
beat and thrum.
Impress
the frequency
and vibration to
muscle,
bone,
unconscious.
One knock, and
Autumn enters.
Stumble.
Tumble.
Fall.
— C.Birde, 10/17
Limbs stretched,
pinned to luminous
late-Autumn sky,
He offers no complaint.
— C.Birde, 12/16
Like pale, slim blades
of sunlight,
dried Autumn grasses
stretch skyward
and bow their heads
to chilling winds.
— C.Birde, 12/16
They uncurl,
upswept like blown leaves
against the wintering sky,
to scrawl their message
in an organization
of wings
that glitter and smoke;
a collective of separate,
weightless bodies
coalescing –
We must leave
must leave
leave
While the sun yet feeds
their hollow bones
and propels
their starry wings,
that they might return
once the world renews
its tilt and they bear
new songs
to sing.
— C.Birde, 11/16
Always,
always in motion;
even those rare moments
we remember
to pause…
— C.Birde, 11/16
Spill of
clouded light
emblazoned across
the sweep
of south-facing
sky.
— C.Birde, 11/16
Bittersweet Autumn —
delicious tang of
gold, rust and ochre,
crisp toasted
and rustling
with each step,
served up
on a broad plate
of astonishingly
blue sky.
— C.Birde, 11/16
She is loveliest
the moment
before
she
fades.
— C.Birde, 10/16
Thoughts roost –
blackbirds
in leafless trees at
sunrise,
gloss-winged and
catching light,
throats lodged
tight with
songs unsung
that fall
unheard,
discarded
as dried leaves
rusting softly
back to
earth.
— C.Birde, 10/16
Autumn’s scarlet kiss
rests lightly
on lichened
stone.
— C.Birde, 10/16