Snaking through stems and branches
Winds flicker jades and maple red
Slanting off rooftops and corners
Chasing the luminous edge
There’s a burrowing in the forest
I sense more than I can see
With skies that cling to moonlight
And air that tastes of leaves
High fields once resplendent
With meadowlarks and fertile life
Now huddle from the onslaught
Of winds holding memories of ice
These passage ways show its turning
Once harbored with blooms and sun
Strike a challenge, and an upbraiding
For winter tasks yet left undone
I tunnel under wooden shelters
Built for these cold and changing states
And gather up sustaining embers
To brace for rain and sleets of fate
Poetry and Verse 