Autumn Poetry


The ranger called them

the Faithful Couple,

those two thousand-year-olds

rising centuries above

our trundling tram.

Side by side, they'd grown

so close, they finally

fused into a single tree,

a triumphant union

of fiber, leaf, and cell.

For they were blessed: Love

in sunlight spilled down

miles of bark, in rain

sank into a world of roots,

in wind defined a longing

so pure even heaven

in its silent sparkling

could applaud

the perpetual music

of their earthly coupling.

Hilary Holladay

Snow Geese

There - against blue sky -

how they ride the wind, high

above fieldstone and green.

Dapple they fly there,

catch sunlight and shadow,

then turn -

dark diamond - flow: disappear.

Robert C. Jones

Backpacking High Plateaus: The Southwest

From the emery-board ground, darkness

slides up without shadows. Wrapped

in down bags on this wide altar,

we are given to the vast oasis

sky, the rinsed white of

the stone-eyed stars.

Dixie Partridge

These Country Things

There are things

you know when you live in

the country. You know the

late-in-the-night things,

the early-morning things, the

things that come only with

the noon-day sun. You know

the spring things and the summer

things and the fall things

and the things that come only

with the wind-driven snow.

You know the things that go squeak,

the things that go snap, the things

that go whoosh right straight on

through a wide-open rabbit trap.

Wayne Hogan


We would roll the pitchforks

in our hands, the handles moist

like dough, feel them lengthen out

into javelins and in the slant of sun,

arms back, backs arched, we would sail

those pitchforks across the field

over the mounds of bulging hay

where, with the perfect throw, they

would spear the afternoon, splendid.

Andrew Green

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