this fleeting season
suspended across sunday
afternoon moments
by october
worn smooth and
gathering into silence
milkweed pods bursting
with fluffy white potential
wait patiently
bovine scent
rusty horse trailer
the west
each time
i ask myself
why not always pay this much attention
cottonwood islands
twisted figures on a
hueless plain
rustle
of leaves yellow..
mind is quiet
yucca seeds..
in it's pop
unseen mindfulness
staring a hole into
that old cottonwood tree
and time slows way down
tufts of hair
encase the barbs
feel-good scratch
dry weed crackle
rusty fence post mud
weeds, burrs
discarded jeans and gunshots
as they die
cottonwood leaves become
audible and richly colored
a mass of grey feathers
floating on autumn grasses
body long gone
each precious moment
passes - whether i am
here for it or not
my internal clock
if i had one
would now be running slow
seeds weigh down the stalks
this year's feast or
next year's pasture
preserving the precious
hues of summer
cottonwood shroud
hard human voices
bring me out of this world
of a thousand bird songs
i refuse
to haiku on
the fat prairie dog
leave it!
she says to her dog
referring to me
sensation of
small book slipping from my hand
unplanned nap-ku
the muted landscape
and the silence between gunshots
are deeply calming
thwarted
by coprolites
and cactus
sensual
against dry hillside
barefoot walking
horse shit
in it's color..
"I see the light"
golden cottonwoods
drink the creekbed dry
fallen leaves
moab red
horse trailer - big enough
for a shetland pony
hay bale mountain
on the other side of a
gnawed-at fence
clouds streak down
rain smells
and cactus
anxious chirps
perked ears as a
coyote prances through
a field of cattails
avian playground
before the storm
voluptuousness
of nature when i sit down
and be still