Neringa

The dock is dry today, the

pond liquid, reflecting

one patch of blue sky, with

tufted clouds of cotton.

I approach the water

from a luring hillside path, deep

with leaves,

like an alpine slide, pouring

crunchy autumn into

silky summer.


Kelly Salasin, October 2009, VT

Death’s Tap

Frost makes frozen confection of the lawn

while ice forms– too soon–upon the pond

and mirrors the bare season to come

with angled etchings of  broken twigs

The dock is slippery when I cross

so I proceed with care

as if at a viewing

of Summer past

Just as I step down upon the rock

that leads back to the road

I am tapped on the shoulder

by a hanging branch

dangling

dead

leaves

Kelly Salasin, Late Autumn 2009

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