Among the silken spider webs

The past does not leave us.

Pull upon a loose spider silk

Dangling in the breeze from

The dim corners of your room,

 

Memories and visions past will appear.

They reside feyly stacked in dusty corners  

Of these old groaning and leaning walls

Within our cedar sided-cabin here

 

Among the misty rainforest of our hearts.

Our memories lay, waiting for the pulling,

Tangled among the silken spider webs, as

We count the days and knots for the remembering.

 

With a gentle pulling on these stacked and jumbled,

Silken electric lines wrapped warmly about

Our beating hearts, we will reveal some few things

Residing in the corners of these from our musty chambers.

After the flurry

My writing seems slowed

After the flurry of the past weeks

The coolness in the air tempers it.

 

The clusters of maple seeds

Are clumped high in the maples

Waiting the rains and Pacific winds

To push them from summer branches

 

A swirling and twirling dance

As they spiral toward the ground

The days are becoming cooler

 

Shorter and the darkness earlier

My blood seems to be thickening

No longer thrumming with the

Heat of the summer sun

 

Thoughts once quickened

Want to slumber into the coolness

Of autumn and on into winter

 

My head filled with languid images

Of cool rivers over hot rocks

The runoff of glaciers from

Grey mountains in the distance

 

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