Two poems for the Fall (or a two-part poem for a different kind of fall...)

The garden and the ants

 

I.

It is good to weed the garden

but we must also sleep in it

 

protect the newness

of the buds

 

from moonlight’s

anxious gaze

 

so many stars

blossoming 

in the stillness of the dark 

earth

below

 

 

 

II.

All summer long

the ants have carried clouds

upon their backs

 

up the mountain’s edge

I watch them

from the grass

 

beneath their feet

watch them

walking up the mist

 

each one a sliver

of morning

 

melting

into the mountains

 

At Autumn’s end

the worms whisper

 

to me

See the melting sun

 

rise