Summer Bleeds into Fall

Green sears into red,

slough summer bleeds into Fall –

framed  season’s etched ridge.

Slowly smoking red

stains the corners of picture –

time’s brushed memory,

a moment smeared perfectly,

touch the rough edges, cut, bleed.

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Asemic Travel Guide – a glass zburg

Asemic Travel,

Guide to a glass zburg – baroque,

complex fortress whines.

 

Sip sweet glass spirit,

formidable burgundy –

tearful tongue haunts lips.

 

 

Lined slips of paper ,

drawn to memory, hanging –

a formal curtain.

 

 

Translations travel –

Asemic Artifacts shift,

meaning lags, ferments.

Fall at the Side of the Road

 

We had an appointment in Sudbury. The road and time stretched ahead, the minutes piled up with the line of vehicles waiting to take a turn – road construction built up the flow of seconds.

In a pause of motion, an early bit of Fall colour waited at the road side for the season to catch up.

When I was younger, I was not as old, my travel bag carried fewer memories –

 

leaves turn red, now Fall –

at the side of the road waits

a moment recall’d.

Road Trip

 

 

Asemic Drive-by

This beautiful village is not the shadow of a person’s portion, but the Owner’s Voice.

 

Nightmare Master,

Can you do garbage?

As the helicopter comes,

You ring the Rose Bell when something sings.

There is nothing to this rest –

Just Dark Peanuts.

People of time, were they beneficial?

The era of fact is preserved in the farmer.

Is there an air prayer? Are you praying?

 

DATA

data dump here

watch for information trees turning

 j D  f  Q  & #Z 3 H L  ksa  FLow  Lwahs

Questions Rising

We are our jungle – I am your water,

of You,

Branches whisper.

The main cat inside you dies, that holiday recedes.

I am remodelling before Nightfall.

 

 

HISS SIDE UP

The Surrey with the Flange on top – admit ONE.

 

Under the tool mixer,

You are under the helicopter,

A man dies, a woman lives –

The scarecrow in the field

Weeps children’s laughter.

 

 

 

dips msilamrof  eGRuoCs

assume stanza

 

 

 

Birds Give

Thanks –

Grateful clouds cling to the wash-line,

Gears turn to face The Moon,

I respect the Goddess of a Dream Sleeping.