Visage

Wading
 In yesterdays sky,
 Sounds of life
 About the stuffy room
 When'd the mist get here?

Faceless
In falling leaves
Smells like lavender
Faceless

Early Rains

My shadow the only shade;

I run home to open windows.

A crow laughs over seven lanes

And flies seven streets,

A hand through my hair!- it’s just breeze.

The airs cool when the lane dips,

And soft rain drips glass buttons.

A year’s frenzy is over.

Green waves wash,

over resting feilds.

The dull cold speaks-

All poems have their seasons.