November’s sharpened vistas
Bare the bedrock of field and fauna,
Hill and horizon,
Soul and spirit
No suffusing sounds conceal dissonance
Few flutters of flight ensnare vision
Plum-red maples shed the fruit of heated growth
Sap’s pressure upward recedes
I retreat deeper into the roots
Searching for eternal sustenance
That will form the seed
That will power rebirth
That will foster new shoots
Out of fertile darkness
Poetry and Verse 