My Neighborhood in Season
Published by Wingless Dreamer, January 2022
My neighborhood in winter is an enigma-
the infinity of ground seamless with horizon
creating a vast nothingness on an inscrutable canvas.
A mysterious brotherhood of men with carrot-proboscis
and frosted arms springing forth from betwixt sidewalks;
silent warriors’ resolve strengthened in cold moonlight
and twinkling radiance anticipating sultry breathiness.
My neighborhood in spring is a paradox-
inevitable conflict’s rise as obstinate winter
resists the onward march of determined summer.
A mysterious dynamic of emerging cultures; newly
turned earth erupting with famished subterranean beings,
blind, wriggly warriors’ quarrel with contentious decay
and sparkling raindrops anticipating emerald shoots.
My neighborhood in summer is a riddle-
the harmonious prose of disparate life vying
for enterprise in golden sunlight and purple shade.
A mysterious composition of half notes rising descant
above the notorious melody of birdsong and wing flutter;
eagle-eyed warriors’ vigilance against garden scourges
and rooted evolution anticipating ephemeral flowers.
My neighborhood in autumn is a quest-
chivalrously requisitioned colors, captured
in swirling wind and herded atop crunchy piles.
A mysterious masquerade through stalked mazes
and lit phantasmagoria beneath southern migrations;
coifed warriors’ pursuit of confections and trickery
and foraged stores anticipating layered insulation.
My neighborhood in quarantine is an anomaly-
an aberrant time of reckoning and confined fears
amidst widespread panic and rarity of discernible fact.
A mysterious hoarding of paper wares and canned goods
under suspicious gazes in vacant enclaves of lost livelihoods;
isolated warriors’ soul rebellion against sensational fiction
and massive expenditures anticipating flattening of curves.