Flakes of grace

 Why did the grove undress itself only to wait for the snow?" ~ Pablo Neruda

Trees do not come naked into this world
at the splitting of the germ, with one emanation
two forces flee from each other, filigree of root
feeling out darkness; a stem posits sunlight
pointedly, draped in the first bold blade

In seasonal procession, covert fibres encroach with worm
and mould into the chthonic continent of DÄ«s
and under the heavens, twig and branch prostrate
as sun worshippers, decked with flower and wreaths
of victory, as vanity gallops green and quick-silvered
through the many venial veins

The fated fall follows, as it must always do
after the puff of pride, after gullible bait taken in the garden
at the end of the Dionysian play, Autumn arrives
an avenging angel, unmasking to the last fermented fig
the fabulous firmament of reds and golden amber
brought down to humble brown

Sober in the frigid light of winter
the undressed grove stands silent, awaiting
the first white flakes of grace

Selecting one of Neruda’s posers for my poetics prompt: The question as Poetry

A garden visit

Swarms of garden gazers
gleefully swoop on bold bedding, right-royal roses,
past pools of voluptuous vegetation, they stream
along water features for refreshments

As solitary bee, I skulk behind bamboo
conjure haikus and listen to the quivering, quaking stems
when human hubbub trails away

Just 44 words for De’s quadrille prompt: Quiver

Laying claim to layers

I have walked through many lives,
some of them my own
and I am not who I was,

Stanley Kunitz ~ The Layers
layers of peeling paint on an abandoned boat
stones that break the surface, weed that goes with the flow – so many tiers to a river bed
luscious layers to a Cornish Longwool
tiers of texture and ‘vintage’ colour contrast between arable and woodland
slabbed mudflats of Martlesham, Suffolk – (& split toning effect of 2 colour layers)

Linking up with Amy’s Lens Artists Photo Challenge of Layered