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Signs
It’s that slow turn toward winter
when Chicory blossoms
fade in the ditch line,
and Black-Eyed Susans
scatter wind-borne seed.
Upturned Coltsfoot
mark a bear’s silver trail,
and Queen Anne’s Lace
unravels
in the wind.
Cloudbursts of leaves
dust the earth
and daffodils
remember spring.
Nights colder, the dark
comes sooner now.
Fat pumpkins for sale
at roadside stands.
Goldenrod frosts the hills.
Flocks of Starlings
begin their murmurations,
dazzling all who look up.
Swans, Tundra Swans
float on a November lake
like the children of Lir
only this flock,
seven times over.
I hike to the furthest shore
and sketch white swans
drifting
on silvered currents.
Stealing near the lake’s edge,
I try to capture wild beauty
before it
takes flight.
The mindful swans watch
with unruffled glances
and glide
into deeper water.