.

nature

.

.

Snapdragons

.

It bites hissing like

sacred snakes,

yet no sound,

only the sweet smell

of a gentile serpent,

the dangerous jaws

of purple petals

a smooth velveteen,

yet not scared, no fear,

no venomous

taste of death,

smooth jaws clamping

caught in a snapdragon.

.

.

The Lava Poem

.

I am overflowing, seeping out of my

chambers

then exploding

into a fountain of glowing orange-

polluting the air.

I run, a river of

destruction,

blanketing, destroying all

in sight.

Like magic, with one

touch I turn trees to skeletons.

I have bombarded forests,

turning them to dust.

I am inescapable,

dying out into an

eerily smooth sculpture-

chaos-

nature's newly paved road,

a silent reminder of the

calamity I have created.

.

.

Leaves

.

Leaves are falling off the trees,

bright orange construction workers,

little parachutists plummeting downward

that are

crying out to October.

.

What could it be?

Could the death of

Chlorophyll cause this beauty?

Ha! Chlorophyll doesn’t exist to me.

It is instead an army of onlookers

dressed in their orange vests,

warning the oblivious innocents-

screaming with vivid color

they are joyous, crumpled and celebrating,

letting the wind carry them to new

destinations.

.

The leaves crunch under my foot,

they laugh at my gesture.

“An era is over,” they are screaming,

“A new one is about to begin.”

I stop.

I peer below at the torn vest.

The parachutist is smiling, uninjured.

.

How could something dying be so beautiful?

.

.

structured

silence

.