Tuesday, September 21, 2021

Notes from the Harvest

The last full moon of summer 
There are codes in the air
As Antares the gateway rides volunteer.
The grape leaves are red.

The future news of poets
Peels bloated skins away
And blows an autumn horn
In all its savagery.

The reckoning will not be delegated.
Ganesh parades in golden lace
And blue diligence.
The talk is of the future.