Start Again...

From the time I discovered that I wanted to be a writer, I gravitated towards poetry. I’ve written articles, tried my hand at short stories and attempted longer stories, but most of my success was my poems. Three years ago I thought about making this a place to share my political screeds. Then I started a new job and didn’t add anything. One of the beauties of the new job is that it affords me the time and mental space to engage my love for poetry. At the urging of some friends, I have decided to start adding them here. Here's my first.

Fall

A day that can only be found in mid-autumn

Last night’s frost no more than ghost lines

Haunting the edges of fallen leaves

Ice crowds the car’s windows

Fading quickly in the amber sunlight

Stumbling through the nearly naked trees

The last of summer’s green only a brown murmur

Its furious gold orange red moment now spent

A hand shaped oak leaf jumps into the breeze

Wandering wearily across the cloudless blue sky

That stretches out to erase the fickle moonlight 

Chasing away the tired stars