October

The Oracle is feeling the chill in the air. This morning is grey and cooler than recent days.

The collage is another piece of art I found while cleaning. Painted and ripped rice paper–I guess I didn’t like the original watercolors. I don’t remember it at all.

wind rustles secrets through trees–
how my roots long for
a blanket with leaves seeded
by a moon garden

every season asks us why
we follow the same
path of lonely wandering
instead of singing

(lost) treasure

lost treasure s

each season
knows that its costumes
must be re
moved, decay
ing all at once to fleetingly
encircle the end

the old sub
tracted, the new feigns
silence as
it changes
into breath—colors conjured,
spilled, yielding to time

recrossing
the same distances
to return
to waiting,
awakening—each day be
stowed, ripened, revoked

A shadorma sequence for Colleen’s #tankaTuesday words, fall and give.

lost treasure close up s

The nights here are cool, but the days are still mired in summer.