Friday, November 27, 2015

They Stand Revealed

All the leaves now     
fallen, fallen,
the squirrel-huts stand plain which had been hidden,
high atop the towering tulip trees.

They look woefully inadequate shielding from winter winds,
being themselves now all unshielded.


The past few days have been balmy;
and yet the hint of winter
in the skies with their wincing shrinking light
has drawn the raccoon  once again  out of the woods.

We seldom see him;  but the trash-can, toppled on its side with the lid pried,
the chicken bones denuded of their remnant juicy delicacies,
tell the tale.
Welcome back, you furry forager;
time to switch to the more cumbrous container with a lockable top.


All at a sudden-once  / seen
stark, behind spare bare branches,
a wisp of cirrus
slow       ly       slips      .   .    .
revealing  in its extended irregular outlines
indecipherable intricacies  of wind and temperature  in the high sky,

like a Gram-stain unveiling   invisible infusoria.

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