SUNSPOTS IN THE WOODS

Sunspots wade across the forest floor.

Omitted tree and branch leaves

Publish and point out gap-streaming light that

Lingers until clock hands move and 

Change all the angles.

Trees fall, branches break, and

Empty spaces leave marks of different kinds that

Stretch across the earth or across my face.

Lost things spin out of place and disappear,

Unfound and forgotten in time;

Scars take their place--

Ephemeral light pale dashes that imply a

Back story of once upon a time

There were no missing pieces.

  

Highlight absence, draw a rough

Outline where the base of a trunk was set

In earth like a large foot and blotted the sunspots.

© cmheuer, 2015

NEW LEAVES

The Grand Opening begins with a simple wave,

Color-coded pale green and thin as paper;

Pollen dusts the air and every breath; and

Sun screens stretch across small ribs and veins,

As new leaves unfold in the pages of a new book,

Huddled together on the side of the read or the unread.

Each one takes its place in line;

Birdsong and petals are thrown into the air,

Scattered like sweets or confetti for bystanders;

Along the sprouting procession, there is a harbor of

Shade from the harsh, singed light spewed upon the

Growing march; it cools the rapid-fire production

Of a circus canopy spread across the tree tops,

Raised high on thick trunks, while wood-fiber sheets

Fan the air and stir the whispers 

Of what is to come before the next leaf

Opens, and each page read, instead of all others,

Collapses the wave. 

© cmheuer, 2015