Falling Leaves

It was the end of Fall
As I recall
And from my perch in
the old, old Birch
Near as I could see
there was only me
in that old tree
and one lonely, only
red-gold leaf.
And the leaf fell down
to the ground
without a sound the leaf
fell down.
No one to push
no real rush
the leaf just fell in a hush
succumbed to
sleep

Night and day

pale eyes watch her wash
dust and dross of day away
to night's dark embrace

Cats prowl

verdant green long gone
replaced by dark caves of steel
cat prowls the rushes

distant memories
built into the DNA
stirs cats' grass prowling

True upon the page

some moments are true
only on fiction's pages
spring is fleet of foot

My novel on the other hand oft has feet of clay. Edit, edit, edit. I intend to launch the eBook this coming weekend.

I'm enjoying fiction. To see words I write build lives and worlds - oh my. It's exhilarating.