Tag Archives: nature

Desire

At the end of my wandering,
I wait with the golden leaves
For the autumn sky
to desire my flight.

Copyright Kay Winter

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Gulls

Evening on the quiet bay,
A distant swirl of gulls
against the autumn woods.
Near me, a silent white moth
Flutters toward the balcony light.

Copyright Kay Winter

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Too Late for This Path

I am walking too late for this path,
but I could not turn away
from the harvest moon rising
across the field as wide
as the magic before me.

I should turn back,
but the frost is settling upon the grasses,
bent and patient.

– Copyright Kay Winter

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Maple Leaf

Alone in a quiet park
off a country road
I wait in the dusk
for a crimson maple leaf
to fall
into the dark river.

– Copyright Kay Winter

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Finally I Understand

Finally I understand
that the wild wood paths
call and light back the moon
unasked.

Finally I understand
how the lone trumpeter swan mourns
white and cool on the still pond
in a green shadow of night.

Finally I understand
that the love ungiven
from the silent,
from the pained,
crosses into such still places
and fills them.

– Copyright Kay Winter

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Out of the Fog

Out of the fog
the soft sound of
cottonwood leaves clicking
as the drops fall from
one leaf to another
down time
to the blurred
streetlights
by the door of the hotel
swinging open.

The smell of eggs
in chafing dishes
and the mixture
of morning colognes.

I want to go back
to the fog outside
the long walk here
and find the wet bark
and soft click of leaves.

Copyright Kay Winter

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November

Let me show you
how everything disappears
into the earth
except the stars of Orion
through the black branches.

Let me show you
how pale the morning light becomes
how slow and hesitant the dawn
how swift the sunset.

Let me show you
the last chrysanthemum
casting petals in the pure air.

Copyright Kay Winter

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Last Leaves

I walk along the creek
these early winter days
unoccupied, uncertain, wild
and watch the dark water
not yet frozen
flow indifferently
to the last
falling
brown
leaves.

– Copyright Kay Winter

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Elements

What wind blew me back here
from where I was
I don’t know
except it was raining there, too.

I came from late June
and the rain had a green edge
that also meant thunder
and lightning that would crack
over the neighbor’s cottonwood trees.

But the place I have come to
is as I remembered.
Autumn, woods,
the wide cold lake
blending into the sky
through the wet black branches.

I am stopped,
dumbstruck on the trail,
by the leaves in a clearing
fallen and aflame
the fire of them burning
the brighter for being wet.

And the wind,
maybe it is the same June wind,
blows the rain through the air
to this clearing.
I stand on muddy earth
in a time-hollowed place
that I will come back to
as I have done.

And my hands are wet,
I think, they are wet.
And it is June again
and the patio chairs must be tipped
against the table before I go inside
to close the upstairs windows.

And can I ask you,
can I,
where are you now?
Do you have such places
that you go to?

And what is the call of now
but an echo through us
that says
remember
and calls back
remember
remember.

– Copyright Kay Winter

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Nature

Wait with me
in the grass
while the dandelions
swell
burst to yellow
parachute
and land again.

Wait with me
while the green spears
creep along the garden fence
spiral out
from lavender
to violet
then close, fade, and drop
small brown seeds.

Wait with me
while the branches above us
bud and leaf
canopy our patient bodies
redden and fall to brown
rest
bud again.

Wait with me
while the skies
pass over us in countless
passages of light and dark.

Wait with me
for the first robins
and the last
and their return.

Copyright Kay Winter

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