escarpment

the years I lived slept

autumn beginning of winter

to the rising tone of the trees

above me on my green hill

the wind whipping through

a gentle roar that never grew

to a full howl or decline

until the snows came

bringing their hush

stoppage to the day

the wind the dark night

all now in half light or blind glare

foot paw prints that appeared

disappear

of white ghosts gone to sleep

Motorcycle mama

you see her in the street

reacting gently

as the hogs rumble by

she can’t help herself

that soft turn towards

the sound

& you wonder if it stirs

somewhere deep inside

she was young once

loved all her boys

lost some in ways

she remembers to forget

another stuck around

now she’s a grandmother

to the one she’s pushing

a different set of wheels

but that doesn’t stop

her thoughts

of when

her hair grew yellow long

fitting those tight leather jeans

in summers so long past

now most days feel like autumn

her hair shining grey

those fading leaves

like memories

falling down

turn blue

the air turns cooler

& I think of you

as my hands turn blue

wondering if you too

are standing somewhere

nose lifted catching the air

damp of rusty leaves underfoot

would you care now to take a look

notice the seasons change

to catch see in your face more age

I’d prefer to think of you as then

you to mind me as a younger man

& the rain lifts goes away

my nostalgia rises no time to play

such is my sweet autumn seasons

drifting thoughts forever pleasing

& you are gone forever on the wind