Rolling, Rolling, Rolling...

A shooting,
not a Falling Star,
slung from Orion's Bow
over the wooded hill,
past the Waterfall,
where it is said
pure Water still flows...
Not a Sound
but the rush of Water,
pushing, roaring
like a Lion
witha misty mane
shaking off the moisture
as he prowls the Plains;
the Water blue/black oil
with white capped waves,
streaming past,
looking thick
and lugubrious,
sweet syrup
bursting over the rocks,
the flotsam and jetsam
clinging to the shore
with white-knuckled
dertermination...
       Dec. 15, 2014

Fly Away Home...

Hawk's eye
     from a frosted moon
     encased in an iridescent halo
     sternly staring
     at the World of Man,
     encroaching daily on Earth,
     approaching dangerous levels
     with far too many flags unfurled,
     proclaiming nothing
     but Greed,
     feeding nothing
     but the insatiable Desire
     for More,
     more than ever
     one could need...
Back to the Nest
     he glides,
     ruffling his feathers,
     he emits a cry,
     hoping to pierce
     cold Hearts and Deaf ears
     but he knows while
     all may Hear,
     too few Listen
     and with a sad smile
     he lays down to sleep
     as his Tears glisten...
        Dec. 14, 2014

The Burrow...

The Rains that played
     their tune upon my shelter,
     to no avail,
     now sit in mute testimony
     here and there,
     in puddles
     reflecting shades of brown
     for now, that is all
     left upon Earth,
     brown leaved jigsaw puzzle,
     not for me to solve
     but to absorb
     in what waning light there is
     in H2O-bury,
     amid the dark and dim...
Decided yesterday
to skip the City,
make to the rails
to shore up The Burrow;
in no hurry,
it is waterproof and sturdy;
first layer down,
two more to go,
then a fine mummy bag,
good to twenty below
and the standard
army issue bag
to start the show...
I dare the snow...
       December 17, 2014