Reorientation
evening sky suspends
the august moon, a bubble
of polished nacre
conflagrant sun capsizes
in spreading tangled
flight of seraph's silken wings
night air presages
the biting breath of ground frost
berries bloat with juice
flushed dog-rose sings its swansong
briny wind floats chaff
from sleek and spiky stubble
deer parade antlers
now the velvet glove is off
rutting and courting
prelude new generations
bone tangles branched bone
with primal bullish bellow
capillaries fail
tendrils strain their sluggish shoots
cupped acorns harden
browsed by streaking silver form
best culled ripe and tanned
beech mast shells the forest floor
gull pins salty eye
on aerial dance of swifts
and swallows whose mind
homes on tropic Africa
cradle of mankind
Albion his own again
day and night make truce
bronze the light and fondant green
rain-stippled winds blow
defiant autumn blazes
anaesthetic June
had not this tingling vibrance!
from The Twain, Poems of Earth and Ether