Winter Words

(C)R.L.K.

A smooth silvery
sky over the lamplit streets
at dusk; a few small
snowflakes quietly falling
as I walk the last mile home.

September Mood

(C) R.L.K.

Against the gray sky,
grayer clouds. Soon thick raindrops
will fall, knocking down
leaves while a swift wind sweeps them,
along with summer, away.

Somewhere Along the Way

(C) R.L.K.

As dusk falls, the hills
are silhouetted against
a clear summer sky;
the lonesome old streets echo
with the sighing of the wind.

Thinking Back (To an American Youth)

(C) R.L.K..

Sometimes it would rain
in summer, long rains
that didn't bother
us, for we were young
and had time to spare;

some mornings, after
a storm, we'd hop in
the old Buick and
just ride, nowhere to
go really, and yet

pleased with the world, pleased
that the trees gleamed as
we passed them by and
the road ahead of
us steamed in the sun.

Had to Say / Sad to Say

(C) R.L.K.

Winter morning. Gray
sky sending down snowflakes. Wind
whining and whistling
outside the window: an old
blue melody played again.

At the Depot

(C) R.L.K.

Tatters of brown leaves
against a frigid blue sky.
Late afternoon, an
hour between trains. Here we are,
waiting to be gone once more.

Time And Place

(C) R.L.K.

Over the old pond,
a cold autumn sun
high in a blue sky,
and a mist lifted
by the wind. A slow
lonesome morning. Here
and there in the park,
leaves are falling. Like
a dry rain, leaves keep
falling on the grass.