Monday, November 4, 2019

NOVEMBER 2019


Way up high
delicate fragile shells
all that remains
succulent interiors gobbled up
first by birds than by hungry wasps


Thirst for water 
satisfied at long last
green turns pale gold
little lemon tree wears pajamas
during the first cold nights of autumn


Glorious red
pineapple sage
defies autumn
red hot blossoms burst
one slim stem after another


Strange creature
who ate our pepper plant
we saw you resting
wondering if you were ready
only to find you suddenly gone


Seems only days ago
you graced a pale rose sky
still slim that night
now growing by leaps and bounds
quarter moon tonight says our calendar
smiling down on this dear earth
you give us hope


Ominous evening sky
visions of the apocalypse
another fiery sunset
reminder of our changing climate
afraid we are hurtling toward oblivion