Thinning Live Oak Trees in my front yard. Photo by me taken 3.29.14
My thready Live Oaks still have leaves that hold.
The neighbors trees will soon fill in the gaps.
I pray that drought or flood won’t cause their loss.
Majestic guards, they welcome guests with shade
throughout each year, repelling frost and sun. To lose them now when they are needed most would change my home, and wound my caring self.
We age like that– a halting step, dark spots, a brush that fills with hair, split nails.
We want the sun but fear a fall, a chill.
Then Spring comes in on fragrant flowered breeze.
We braid fresh daisies in our hair and sing. And we arise to wave our arms and dance.
In rainbow shirts we prance among the trees.
© Gay Reiser Cannon * 3.29.2014
When moon’s a silent silver slivered rill,
then autumn sneaks by dark upon the stair
where night revolves yet all the stars stand still.
The sweet gum flames, its redness gladly spilled
across the spiderwebs spun vast, now bare
with moon a silent silver slivered rill.
The evening casts a spiky stirring chill;
when trees outline themselves as ghosts out where
the night revolves yet all the stars stand still.
Those silhouettes that scared the birds now spill
themselves on hedges full of purple snares;
when moon’s a silent silver slivered rill.
My heart beats slower, still I feel the thrill
of bonfire smoke and shows at county fairs
when earth revolves, yet all the stars stand still.
As midnight strikes I note the rising hill
that looms in darkness at that junction where
the moon’s a silent silver slivered rill
when earth revolves yet all the stars stand still.
© Gay Reiser Cannon * 9/9/2012 * All Rights Reserved