Of moving shadows.

Undulating squares

Of building-blocks.

Titilating rows

Of window-panes.

City’s mirror

On the shore.

Reflections

Are flossy-patches

Of reality.

Reflections

Are moving-sketches

In motion.

Picture-frame

In water-shaeows.

Pictures upon pictures.

From this bus-window

I watch,

Shadows upon shadows.

It’s quite a sight

In this short-ride.

And I think,

How your shadows

Will cast

A lovely-painting

Time,

That hurls

Autumns breeze.

Nature’s mark

Of the season.

Leafless trees

In awe.

Barren branches,

Unprotected to the

Wind.

The pace

Is hasten.

On-lookers

Rush—

Push.

Colliding bodies

In the cold,

Bustling from

The gust.

Autumn’s whirl

In frenzy.

Spinning curls

Of cold rain.

Protruding clouds

Of gray.

Cumulus layer,

Accumulating frost.

Colorless flowers

In collapsing bloom.

Falling petals.

Flowerless stems

In gloom.

AUTUMN

Undulating against murky aqua-gray waters

Of Lake Michigan.

The Sun has gone down

Leaving the fog behind you.

Only last flickering brightness

Remains around you.

The sail pushes you away

From the shore,

To the open waters for a ride.

No passengers can be seen in side.

The day is almost over

And you still afloat,

Drifting away looking for the sun

Birds fly frantically

In this morning quest,

Through high and low

Undertones.

Roaming in uneven wing patterns

Within a latitude

Of consternation.

Unyielding yearning

Of wanting to soar

In kaleidoscopic formation

Forming fantastic designs

And reaching instant highs

And lows while hiding