Tuesday, November 16, 2010

silent stories

where the autumn morning sun
passes over the pale rocks
the frosted ribbons
of summer
lie still
in their crisply-formed
calligraphy

7 comments:

Reya Mellicker said...

This is a day to feel the confluence of fall and winter! My friend Jo (who always reads your blog) said yesterday that, on her walk, the autumn sun warmed her back while winter kissed her face.

And the wheel keeps turning!

willow said...

This is like a gift, beribboned and lovely.

The Weaver of Grass said...

I like that image Stephen - calligraphy - beautiful, I shall think of it when I see such scenes in our frosty weather.

steven said...

reya the natural world is letting go and then also there's an opening. the monring's are cold and the afternoon's are good for me. the sun is low and warm and i love riding into it at each end of a day. and yes, there's the kiss of winter on my lips when i ride - morning and evening. beautifully said jo. steven

steven said...

thankyou willow. the river pebble garden is a place where both i and the chipmunks, squirrels and rabbits like to spend time. it has so many stories. steven

steven said...

weaver i imagine that up high in the dale there's frost showing up. we've had frost every day for the past month. snow a couple of times but nothing to really stick. that's coming soon. steven

Jo Floyd Lucas said...

This poem is tinged with regret. What stories from the Calligrapher went untold as Autumn lay her frost upon his pen?