Fall

south-field

I watch the rain fall,

a forest of steel shafts,

spear-straight and deathly cold,

to lie in trembling droplets

in a petal’s curved embrace.

 

Beneath cold autumn rain,

the last of the roses, swaying gently,

let scented petals fall,

drifts of sweetness

where the blackbirds fuss.

 

In this butter yellow light,

silent fall the golden leaves

against a sky blue as summer,

robins’ eggs and forget-me-nots.

Remember this when frost furs

in frigid white

our winter world.

Haiku challenge: Muse & Pen

Ronovan’s challenge this week is a writerly one. Or at least that’s the first possible meaning. Have a look at his blog for the original takes on these two words.

osage orange tree

The golden leaf falls
I muse on summer’s passing
penning elegies.

Muse guiding the pen
the poem flows a river
words bright as diamonds.

and a third one just for fun.

Amuse me, you said
pending the jury’s verdict—
I ran out of jokes.

Dancing leaves

Autumn_on_the_Seine,_Argenteuil_by_Claude_Monet,_High_Museum_of_Art

In the square

a smiling girl bends and sways

pirhouettes for the crowd

her eyes half-closed

to better hear the gasps of admiration.

Jackdaw cocks a jet-bright eye

then leaps

a burlesque tumble of sleek black wings

to dance amid the golden rain

tossed from the ragged skirts of autumn trees.

The crowd applauds

the girl beams

jackdaw preens a glossy plume

while the fiery dance of the trees goes on

for as long as there are trees with leaves to cast

more precious than pearls before swine.