TheBanyanTree: exit for october

[Mike Pingleton]

earlier:

the wind is a wet dog at play,
slinging rain in shimmy,
taking trees in its teeth and shaking
the last of the leaves loose.


earlier still:

the falling away sun warms
but never burns, and ladybugs
and garter snakes drink it in.
the beetles to power their whirligig
engines in a final barn dance,
the serpents to soak up fire, stored
and banked in their secret hearts
while they sleep in old cellars.


later:

tonight they don the ancient avatars
and travel in small bands,
young minds and little hands
reaching back to a dark old place,
just a touch, but not enough
to fully waken the old hunters.
a few will feel when the night air
thickens, and shadows slink
like wolves just beyond the fire.