Unsupervised
i walk in the mountains,
in the crevices between rocks,
hunting for mushrooms
and yelling when the bear comes.
on a branch, eating unfortunate otter,
flower behind the ear, a stick in my mouth
to look cool for the animals; no more storm parties
alone in the cave of my tree.
under an autumn moon i wander,
wondering: do they look for me?
i’ve found a better sleep, knowing i’m gone.
sleep is my solace more than the forest -
in the forest there is no music
and your thoughts of death are vivid.
i travel deeper, but find the edge:
a field of dead-yellow grass, no trees beyond.
hark back to the forest, the depth of it,
that thickness i wanted:
costing my parents too much, i ran
away, and dug my home into a willow.
i live there, barely room to stand.
--Pearce Green
Local Forecast
The forecast is
for moths to pour out of the sky tonight,
for distant storms
to gnash their teeth and run
out of rain before they reach us.
It says
that good and bad luck made a pact
to always act together, and that
fate has a searchlight
to find a way between the stars.
It says the desert will turn
blue when the sun sets
and coyote packs will sing to one
another from one century to the next
across an arroyo
lost in time. There will be
truth and lies that can’t
be told apart in daylight and not
at night when the owl
flies to the other side and won’t reveal
whatever is there. About tomorrow
there is little to say
except that there will be exchange rates
and hummingbirds, wars
and weddings,
ten per cent off groceries
and investments that affect the soul
even as it leaves the body wandering
in pursuit of the lost moon
--David Chorlton
broken autumn clouds
cold sky, colors of wet ink
somewhere, a thin moon
--Pepper Trail
harvest moon rising
over the tumbledown shack
and its roof of gold
--Matthew Edgeworth
feet scuff through dry leaves
earthy fragrance of damp soil
harvest moon shines bright
--Kate Chamberlin
Walking by a Maple Tree in Autumn
Hundreds of scarlet flags wave at me. I wave back.
--Nancy Christensen
At Path’s End
at path’s end I always stop
there’s something else living below,
it comes alive under October moon,
breaths not, frozen in first frost - unearned
past fears, lost dreams, that one, lost chance.
--Patricia Furstenberg
Equinox
first day of autumn:
6am sickle moon
upside down
cups what we can not see
--Carl Mayfield
autumn moon
what leaves
what remains
of us
--Lorelyn De la Cruz Arevalo
in Brighton
beneath the Autumn moon
a lone unknown bird cries
--Madhushala Senaratne
while I turned my head
that traveler I'd just passed
melted into mist
--Shiki
