Dusk

It was such a beautiful evening, after a very chilly day. I stood on the rise in my back yard looking across into the woods and thought how inspiring the woods becomes at dusk. As the light played on the trees, changes occured right before my eyes. The following poem shares some of my thoughts and feelings.

Dusk… blushes every tall tree with the sun’s glow

Cold December air gently caresses my face

as I stand staring into the darkening woods

Nothing stirs

Birds twitter… huddling together in the cedars

Rabbits burrow down under the blackberry bushes

on a cozy bed of brown leaves

the sky dims

Golden shades turn to gray… then black

Dusk in the woods can be a spiritual experience

As all of God’s creation rests in quiet slumber

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I took this photo with my iPhone this evening, after taking a walk on the gas line right-of-way behind our house.

Ode to a Gecko

Green Gecko posturing for her kiss

Crimson fan spread like an Egyptian palm

Swelling and deflating spread signals her

To come and join in a sweet summer’s trist

*

But, how quickly you changed as colors fade

Love lasts only for a season you know

Now, as Fall leaves turn brown, dry, and curling

You too have traded your green luster show

*

Now’s the time for gray burnt umber blending

Winter fast approaches…with each cold wind

Time to forget courtship…summer’s gone now

Find space to hibernate… till winter ends

*

Bone-chilling winds…Heartbeat slows…Blood runs cold

Surviving to live/love another day

Photos: Dwight L. Roth

Open link night at d’Verse. Join us at: https://dversepoets.com

For more information on Geckos check here:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anolis_carolinensis

Awaiting Resurrection

October skies Covid-blue / clear as a bell

call for an end to summer’s heat

time for one last shinning / one last gasp.

Leaves present their colorful eulogy

leaving marks on flat smooth stones

lacking summer’s warmth.

As days close in, winter’s chilling bony finger

beckons us enter her icy sepulchral interment.

White snow blankets eulogies soon forgotten

as we rest / tucked in peaceful compost slumber,

awaiting life’s resurrection / sure to come.

Photos; Dwight L. Roth

Reflection

Old model A rusting away - Marc Andrew (4)

Aging rusts the soul
Life scattered like lights and doors
Falling leaves hide rust

*

Autumn Contemplation shows

Nature reclaims everything

Photo: Marc Andrew

Frank Tassone asked us to consider Autumn Contemplation, as we come to the end of this long hot summer. There are many ways autumn makes us stop and think about life. Nature, aging, and the combination of both remind me I am not invincible. When I was young, aging seemed far off, but now I am in the autumn of my life and realize in time I too will be like the car in the photo above. When gone, I will be remembered in bits and pieces, but soon, those too will fall by the wayside and the leaves of time will cover all. I decided to use this great photo again and write from a little different perspective.  I am using it with permission from my nephew, Marc Andrew.

Join us at:  https://frankjtassone.com/2019/08/31/haikai-challenge-102-8-31-19-autumn-contemplation-shuushi-haiku-senryu-haibun-tanka-haiga-renga/

Check out my previous post for another perspective!

 

 

Christmas Colors

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Maple glows bright red

Doesn’t know December’s here

All other trees bare

Red lights in forest window

Nature celebrates Christmas

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Red Maple Photo taken today: Dwight L. Roth

 

Haikai Tanka for Frank Tassone’s challenge using Christmas as our prompt. One Red maple still has its leaves clinging to its branches. Seems very unusual to see this at this time of year. Shot this photo today to use as my theme.

Join us at: https://frankjtassone.com/2018/12/22/haikai-challenge-66-12-22-18-christmas-haiku-senryu-haibun-tanka-haiga-renga/

 

 

Leaves

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Leaves

Are we not all

But leaves in the stream

Whose lives begin

As bud on twig

 

Flourishing green

In the sunshine of life

We shine in spring rains

And wave joyfully in the wind

 

Some get devoured

By those who would

Consume their very being

Sapping strength stealing life

 

Others scorch

in the heat of drought

Twisting and curling

In dehydrated anguish

 

Many who make it

Add color as they age

All finally leaving the tree

To be gathered and burned

Or raked and composted

 

Some catch the wind

For one last hurrah

Landing by fence posts

Or floating downstream

Into the great unknown

 

But many //surrounded lie

Right where they fall

Blanketing the feet of family

As protection // nourishing spirits

For generations to come

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

 

Patience…Nature’s Rule

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Patience… Nature’s Rule  (a Hai bun)

In our world, we bow down and worship instant gratification. We find the opposite is true with nature. Since time began, nature has been patiently going through its annual cycles and seasons.

The book of Ecclesiastes tells us there is a time and a season for everything, a time for every purpose under heaven. Nature teaches us to be patient and wait for the right moment. The buds sitting in each joint wait for the sun, rain, and light to be exactly in sync before opening.

Sometimes we think we must make things happen in our life instead of waiting for the time to be right. Rushing things usually ends in disaster. The prophet Isaiah tells us, Those who wait on the Lord will renew their strength.  There is a lot of wisdom in waiting for the right time to bloom. You will know when everything is in sync and the time is right.

Stump of each dry leaf

A bud full of potential

Waiting patiently

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Victoria Slotto Kicked off our week with Haibun Monday—No Ko Me—Tree Buds

“In Japanese the word pending is implied in the Kigo, No Ko Me--tree buds. The bud holds so much potential, the possibility of the tree becoming all that is was created to be.”

Come join us at d’Verse~Poetry Pub.

https://dversepoets.com/

 

Fall in the Woods

Dwight with bird house from Lauralville 001

Growing up playing in the woods all summer was wonderful. We ran over the trails and played Cowboys and Indians, Davey Crockett, and Daniel Boone. We had no video games or smartphones. We spent our days in the outdoors. I hope you will bear with me for reposting this bit of nostalgia. I posted it last year and will probably post it again next year. Perhaps you can picture the changes in our woods as fall came on each year. This is where I grew from a child into a teenager at Masontown, Pennsylvania.

Fall in the Woods at Masontown

I can still remember, like it was yesterday
Fall in the woods at Masontown

Cold weather closed in early
Leaves in the woods
Turned shades of yellow, orange, red, and brown
What was once a lush green woods
Filled with green hollow stemmed weeds
Now becomes blanketed
With a soft silent coating of leaves

The Silver Maple and Butternut next to the house
Dropped their yellow-tan leaves
The quince turned yellow-brown
As the apple trees blended into the scene
With rich deep red leaves
Highlighted by a back drop of color
Pouring from the shallow woods
Extending from our house
To the church cemetery

On the driveway black walnuts still in the hulls
Driven over with car tires
Squishing and shelling
Removing the hard nuts inside
Picking them up, peeling off the excess
While blends of saffron, amber, and walnut stains
Are left on my hands and under my nails

From driveway to furnace room
Down in the basement
The nuts carried to be dried
For cracking with hammer and brick

Out in the field behind the chicken house
Rows of asparagus
Lined the edge of the woods
Bent over like a hundred old men
Kinked and twisted
Dry hollow stems
Seed pods still clinging stubbornly to the tops
Some will weather the snow and wind
Only to be disked up in the spring
To start all over again

Masontown 1972 (2)

Out in the woods,
Paths where our bare feet ran all summer long
Disappeared under layers of leaves
As frost took its toll on the trees
Now I can walk through the woods,
With a borrowed single-shot 12 gauge,
Looking in the pit holes for rabbits,
Flushing out ring-necked pheasants
From the edge of the corn field
Just beyond the back side of the woods

Life was simple then,
Rabbits shot were few and pheasants even fewer
But walking through the woods and field
Was an experience I enjoyed
Just for the sake of being there

The woods remained stark and bare
For the rest of the winter,
But it’s passing and recurring beauty
Left indelible impressions
On my mind for years to come

Sometimes I wish
I could just be there once again

Masontown, PA circa 1949 001

Photos: Dwight L. Roth & Family Album

 

 

Leaf

via Daily Prompt:

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I figured since Fall starts today, it would be a good day to start thinking about leaves. The prompt for today was the one word Leaf so this worked out very well. Enjoy my personification of the insignificant leaf!

To Be a Leaf

Oh… to be a leaf, t’would be a delight

High in a tree on a warm summer’s night

Poking my head out the door

Warm seduction of spring calls me fore

 

Coming out half dressed in the morning light

A red bathing beauty all shiny and bright

Stretching extending my fingers unfurl

Semi-frosty nights will nip at the curl

 

Turning green without envy my hands open wide

No jealousy here I’m filled with pride

Ever expanding to the size of a hand

Not to be shaken by woman or man

 

Blown in the wind by breeze and ‘cane

Hands lifted in praise then baptized by rain

Waving high over lovers’ joy without end

Old folks and children consider me their friend

 

Enduring the heat of hot summer’s blast

Knowing all too soon it will be past

Blushing with color… yellow, orange, and red

My crowning glory before I land with the dead

 

Photographed by families, travelers, and friends

A model’s envy we all join hands

Waving our boughs and then were gone

Floating to the earth but I’m not alone

 

Lying with friends we await our fate

Raked in piles while the children wait

Jumping and squealing they all roll and tumble

All in a pile as big brothers grumble

 

Bagged and stacked on the curb for recycling

Back to the garden it’s not really frightening.

Or perhaps simply falling staying were we lite

Putting roots to bed for the long winter’s night