Guest Book

full-fox-print-color-corrected-reducedWelcome!  Please read some of my poetry while you’re here. Even if a post is two years old, they’re being read every day. They’re all current. Feel free to join the conversation. Lastly, treat this post as a Guest Book. Offer suggestions, improvements, requests or just say Hello! If you have a question concerning poetry or a poem, click read more at the end of this sentence and fill out the form. Continue reading

September 29th 2016

·
geese
····cry southward—the last stars appearing
········earlier
·
·
The corn stalks are turning and the wild artichokes are in full bloom. Our apple tree is sugared up and filled with birds. There’s much ado this time of year. Almost time to bring the scarecrows in.
·
322 September 29th 2016 | bottlecap
· to

Goings on in Vermont

Some goings on in Vermont. All the images are 1920×1280 so, if you’re inclined, you can use them as a desktop image. Some of the last wildflowers, a crate of apples ready for the apple cider press, a leaf pile, and the mid-afternoon sun through the windows.

Creative Commons License
This content of this post is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

September 28th 2016

·
autumn
····night—a wheelbarrow at the milky way’s
········edge
·
·
Thinking about this haiku the morning after writing it.
·
I had originally written—  under/the milky way—a wheelbarrow at the field’s/edge —but was dissatisfied. I sat with it until midnight. I wanted to capture something of the mystical beauty and loneliness of the wheelbarrow. To write that something is under the milky way is redundant since there’s nothing that isn’t under the milky way, but by that point I was exhausted.
·
A night’s sleep and what I couldn’t reach the night before was a simple solution, move the wheelbarrow to the  edge of the milky way and the field or yard is implied, but also the scale and “alone-ness” of the moment.
·
321 September 28th 2016 | bottlecap
·

September 27th 2016

·
only
····pumpkins left—the moon rolls off the scarecrow’s
········shoulder
·
·
Seems I was only just writing my last haiku for August. October, the most  transformative of New England’s months, will soon begin. I know I wrote that September is my favorite month but maybe, in truth, it’s October.
·
320 September 27th 2016 | bottlecap
·

September 26th 2016

·
cloud
····and mountains all one color—a cold autumn
········evening
·
·ne
I hear the mice working to get into the house, always this time of year. Our cat is lean, a summer spent outside, a catches mice each day. Still, they’re in the walls but seldom survive into winter.
·
319 September 26th 2016 | bottlecap
·