September Sunday

Cooling wind, 
a lonely dog, 
insect arpeggios, 
slow rolling fog: 
autumn’s song and 
the highway hum.
May Monday morning
never come.

Copyright 2023 Brenda Davis Harsham

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Layers of Light

clouds on Mount Greylock, 
ever-changing layers of 
dark and light 

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Lonely in San Diego

lonely stretches 
of shorn grass except high up, 
birds  

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Abandoned at the Railyard

still sidecars 
no schedule or passengers, 
just ghost conductors 

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A Sweet Sting

remembering 
my mother, 
arms wide and strong
like tree branches 
warm with morning sun,  Continue reading

Entranced by

the moment when light
through colored glass turns sunshine
into magic 

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Autumn Gold

autumn light 
befriends silent drifting leaves, 
touching them with gold 

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Rough Winds Fly

On city streets, rough winds fly 
snapping trees, bruising branches 
while final fruits are coaxed to roundness 
tender with summer’s sweetness, 
a promise of thanks and giving both, 
a slow subsiding of this year’s troubles. 

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Quiet Heart

the sinking sun’s 
final golden rays light 
my quiet heart 

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Fall Shivers

leaves tremble,
red-gold-orange spirals 
on crisp nights 

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Thanks and Giving

The
leaves 
whirl, swirl, 
frisk and flutter, 
before settling into  
honey and russet blankets,
beech, maple, birch, oak, cherry. Continue reading

Maple Down Ditty

autumn rain 
slapping five with maple leaves, 
pitter-pat splats  

Copyright 2020 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading