Poem for an Autumn Day

Everyone Knows

On an Autumn day,
the path open,
and the leaves orange
like a whirling orb,
he said,
“I’m going to walk a way
down the trail.”
Shoulders bent, back bent,
just to clear his mind,
he went.
She watched him go
and put soup in a pot
for his return.
“I’ll be back,”
she heard him say
before he closed the door.

He went that way
of his own design
with a stick for a third leg
and a brown scarf he liked.
She loved to see
the trees sway
in the Autumn sky,
their leaves in flight
and scattered on the ground,
sometimes swirling in circles,
a golden tunnel down the trail
inside the trees,
a spear of sunlight
through the middle
with a tip of hurt
that traveled to her heart.

This is a painting by my friend, Sylvia Williams, titled "Memories of the Sea." It's an evocative image and inspired the poem below.
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Swimmer

An aerial view of a blue lagoon:
I’m diving down through layers of air,
soon descending, swallowed by depths,
stroked by cold water,
the almost perfect pleasure,
seeing the submerged view,
holding my breath with splendor
as the air bubbles rush past.
Then, turn, pull upward and rise,
the burst amidst wide water petals,
the smell of Bougainvillea,
the mechanical saw of the katydids,
the too sweet cry of the chickadee,
the life of the air.