‘Tis the fall season,
a layer of ground cover:
leaves here; humans there.
Author: N
Writer of all things, some of which are pretty good.
Fired up

Unmistakably,
firing up the big engines,
glowing, sun rises.
Clarity

Staring at coffee
waiting for the clouds to part,
for my path to form.
Storm

The surfers convene:
brewing up a thunderstorm,
shady clouds gather.
Cut

All over the land,
gaping wounds and bleeding hearts—
cut trees; paper cuts.
