Seasons

March left like a lamb

summer started without a second of spring

cold-windy, to hot-humid in the blink of a hummingbird’s eye,

paradise for resting bugs,

leaves, and buds, July flowers announcing

their annual appearance

never ready, warmer clothes crowding closets

summer stuff waiting in the garage, nowhere to go

first warm weekend scrambling to open plastic boxes

looking for cotton, and bugs

quick hurry, unpack the cool fabrics

recycle the boxes, pack up the warm

no warning for heat, except experience

this happens every year, about this time

only the day/date changes

but foresight would suggest

an exchange

before the lamb is roasted

Shadows

Before the time of moon and tides

giants walked the steaming swamps

and shadows followed

whether by sunlight, moon

or darkness

before the time of men and after

just beyond the boundary,

at the mystical edge, between the worlds

behind the trees, and the boulders in the river

ethereal phantoms appear  briefly

then slip away rushing before the light,

reminders of those that wait in the night

huddled in caves, sitting next to fire

chanting the shaman’s dreams

giving the illusion of protection