The Year Winding Down

(C) R.L.K.

December sunlight
slanting through the bare oak trees;
fallen leaves, lifted
by a cold wind, swirl briefly
then fall to the grass again.

Autumn Trio

(C) R.L.K.

1.
Near a wooden gate,
fallen leaves float in puddles
left by morning rain.

2.
High above the trees
geese depart this afternoon,
dark wings in white clouds.

3.
So small a garden
but full of so much moonlight
on this cool clear night.

Something Like An Old Folk Song

(C) R.L.K.

In a rain-drenched town
there is the sound of fallen
leaves being scattered
by the wind. Streetlamps are lost
in mist. And in the distance
there it is again:
the long and lonesome whistle
of the midnight train.

Somewhere I've Roamed

(C) R.L.K.

Above the green hills,
a sky of deepest
blue. Birds soaring high,
then higher, as if
searching for the day's
missing clouds. Bright sun
of summer shining.
Old folks asleep on
front porches. (If they
dream, may it be of
good things they have known,
however briefly.)

This Way Home

(C) R.L.K.

Near sunset, after
an April shower: the street
glistens; wind-shaken,
the leaves of the maple trees
spill raindrops on the sidewalk.

One of Those Long Walks

(C) R.L.K.

The warmth of this February day
surprises us. Reaching the top of a hill,
we pause to consider the way
the sun, angling out from the clouds will
throw light down on the grass and trees
as if it were the middle of
summer, as if trying to please
us, and for a while that is enough.