dogtrax

Here, stories sparkle nested in constellations in the night's clear sky

just a moment behind the blues note bend

she takes a breath to begin again

a songbird calls, somewhere in a softened wood

two notes, dancing the space where the oak tree stood

for Steve

Art, a frozen slip of water off a slant roof; sculptured icicles

The cold's soon coming on the heels of a jet-stream; uninvited guest

Warm beds bring slow things; a poem, delayed, makes its way, folded into day

for Algot

An old Kenmore stove, all rusted and unplugged, left here for the rewilding deep inside the grove of trees

the discarded metal remains of someone's kitchen, and to think of the trouble it took to cart it here and dump it here

and the memories it contains

for #ds106

A pattern of art, the Chestnut's bark twines itself all around the tree

On a jaunt through woods, pause at the tracks of a bear - the path, disappears

Mirth and merriment - maybe we will remember here in December

Day 25

to carry within us an orchard ... — Li-Young Lee, From Blossom https://poets.org/poem/blossoms-0

Some of us bloom as flowers, buds on a green stem, with roots taken to soil

Succulent fruit, ripe as rhymed words, poems on branches of trees

Others of us wait in cold, huddled up, battened down for season's change

The pit we feel inside our stomach may yet become the seed of nourishment

for Advent of Joy