Much, much rattling weather on the Farthest Edge

This month, this week, this hyperconscious day,

Weather that tempts with sunbeams,


With dazzling rainbow mists,


With downpour and with rushing flood


That every seed, corm, bulb, rhizome and root in the dark moist soil

Thrust forth

Swift forests of javelin green

Only to wilt and, terrify that eager chlorophyll blood

With blades of gale, with ice like fire:

Come! Kneel,

Bow your buds

To Nature’s ineluctable behest!

The lingering leaves of Autumn

In slippery insurrection

Drape a dwindling, fading tent

With their last skeletal tissue,

Now entitled by decay

To find Nirvana

In their final Earthly rest.