A Walk in the Mountains

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