Much, much rattling weather on the Farthest Edge
This month, this week, this hyperconscious day,
Weather that tempts with sunbeams,
Cajoles
With dazzling rainbow mists,
Then
With downpour and with rushing flood
Insists
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.
