Contemplating: Plath

Valleys

Old man winter
Blows snows' brooms
Sweeping apparitions
Over Pine 's ribs
spirits escape
In gusts of ice-
They exhale ; make
Music against valleys
Belly.
Old man winter
Can tell the dancer
From the dance.
This night sky
Lusts -
A Release of its snowflakes
This dancer -
In the midst
Of  winter's bows-
 The ballet :
Of season.

Winter Blossoms

Blossoms, this,
new winter:
     Surround holiday's hearth-

Snow's ribbons:
hold my cheeks:
     Spring's crocus , it's beauty-

Aria:
the duet:
     where winter evolves spring-

Just the point-
earth erupts:
     and life begins, the way-

it was meant- 
before , dreams
     melted, those seasons ,spaces

Froze ,
even-
     Tulips and Daffodils









          
     





   
   



   

 

Thanks

Tarry over the "thanks " of today....for ,"thanks" ever so soon...
equate to a chirping bird atop a utlity line in early morn; an apricot sunset over the Atlantic;  afreind whose hair is growing in the face of death.

Give , "thanks" , knowing today is your life....not anything that may happen.

Falling Down into Autumn

The hues of the Maple's  leaves smile at their new colors. Burnt-orange, pumpkin-colored....hanging beginning to parch abut the grey parchment branches. They smile as their colors change with the season. They smile as they understand the pile , the heap, when they are raked....all  together. One nestling of colors . They watch as the pumpkin, that gourd, takes residence on the porch ,near the pool of the cranberry,  mustard-colored heap....falling sole,  gently aswirl to the cool earth.
The hues of autumn......paint the scenery of warm...where one looks forward to the another part of the wheel of color.