At The Border


on the edge of the storm
we are not quite yet
consumed by the commotion

At Summer’s Edge


down by the river
the susans and goldenrod
commune

At The Edge


listening
to the purple
echos

Maple on Birch


at meadow’s edge
maple turns
summer’s page

Red Edge


boundary marking
the meeting place
of self and other

Crossing the Ridge


edging winter out
leaf buds sunning
as snow retreats

Austerity

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sharp edged
cold etches
light into dark

Morning Moon

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diamond edged air
cuts like a knife
morning moon’s cold light

Overlooking


The water glitters and shouts as it rushes on
carrying memories of perfection from the freshness of youth.
Age tempers today’s perfection with the acceptance of impermanence
making the glitter more brilliant and the shouting more joyful.