“Fall Landscape” by Russ Potak
radiant palette
pigments of rain
drip from flames
brilliant fiery
heralds of change
unfolding itself
in tableaus of
texture and time
turning crisply
through colors
that quicken
the heartbeats
of seasons with
sentiments tithed
to the passerine
psalms reverent
music of arson
that titillates ears
as it burns down
the rustic divinities
shading the sins
come to pray in a
pastoral hushed
woodland church
From my books Ephemera and Legacies (vol. 2)
Writer Lynne Sargent
Poetry Puttering by Pax & Company
Sometimes everything has to be enscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that small, bright, and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart. David Whyte
"drink from the well of your self and begin again" ~charles bukowski
no dust here
Looking ahead, without looking back (too often)
flights of fancy from New Zealand
You're never alone, if you've something to share
All you touch and all you see / is all your life will ever be
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I am where the valleys are deep, the mountains are high, and the wind moans through trees...
rejuvenatement - not retirement
Poesy plus Polemics 
I liked the line ‘music of arson’.
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many thanks
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Pastoral . . .
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that feeling has been one of the miracles of having lived here, a place I love but must soon leave
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Ephemera… had to look it up 🙂
It was subtle in this piece and very effective, for me, with your last three lines.
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much appreciated
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Beautiful. I picked up on a melancholy sense in “heralds of change unfolding itself in tableaus of texture and time” before I discovered the context of your poem in your response to Peter N. And then I realized you published this previously in another book. Your poetry has an ageless quality.
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I am dearly blessed to have my poetry read by a thoughtful soul such as you
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