September

The sun is low and electrifies
entanglements woven
between branches holding
the fruits of roses filling
an expanse
I choose to count on.

Like the monthly silver
dollar suspended
by threads of floating ice.

Summer Storm

In this August
full of berries
rain and thunder
came down.

Though it came with blessings
and a chance to see red
and grab with both hands
the strength
of antlers growing
out of the ripening moon.