I’d forgotten about the starlings – had drowned their raucous cacophonies in the deepening days of August until just now, the noisome rush plummeted into the honey locust, whose yellow is now heavily inked by the sudden weight of wings © Sarah Whiteley Advertisements
seems every corner these days, yellow reluctance hangs from the trees but can you maybe see the small promise in the perchance-forgetfulness of coming wintry rimes where we might biding sleep 'til wakened by warmer times © Sarah Whiteley
a dozen dark-eyed juncos, full of bright yes-es, skitter through a feast of fallen cones for days now I've carried the polished comfort of a horse chestnut like a talisman though no earthly charm will reconcile the leaves back onto November trees when October finally … Continue reading reconciliation
November chill rusts the dogwood, scatters the locust seeds down the sodden street the maple this year shows an unusual reluctance for red but today gray was made a near beautiful thing – a frame for the darker darts of the chickadees in the yellow … Continue reading November chickadees
the bees have succumbed to drowsiness and the honeysuckle's dropped, replaced by the final asters bowing low in blue reverence of sky the river birches arch their yellow-graced necks over the pond where drifts of silver fish begin their quiet descent to barely being maples … Continue reading autumn’s end
into swelling tides of feathered grasses the swallows dive like last light behind the foothills, purple and gray with the bruises of another vanishing day too many Octobers have becomingly blazed since you and I sat on that step with damp hair and cigarettes, content … Continue reading in memoriam – for J.
I could watch (have watched) that pine for hours and the purple sand cherry - currently slowly balding seeing the yellowing of the locust leaves always makes me feel just a little bit wistful leaves that in a few weeks will blow away to wherever, … Continue reading a remedy for wistful