How many times have I missed seeing the subtle?

Bougainville reaching over clouds

 How does she do that?   

Fall

about ready to swirl.  Times to find those comfy sweaters.  Time for thick socks, a long walk and rustle some fallen leaves.  
 

No matter how colorful

 

sometimes a narrative is slow to reveal itself almost as if time decided to team-up with dream-world.    

On the creative breath of others

Today, I'm celebrating my mentor Diane diPrima.  Sipping tea and gratefully breathing. 

When everything is in a swirl

sip tea  observe  

This message is brought to you from Fritz:

"Friends, box selection should never be undertaken lightly; one must be open to the unexpected, to the adventure unfolding.  A box marked "priority mail" is generally a fine starting place.  If you have question, please email me.  I am quite an expert on boxes and the selection of."   

 

Fall can be blurry

 with the onset of rain and wind.  Neither a negative.  Just facts of time.  

Which is real?

Tree or reflection?  Does it matter?  When Autumn makes all the leaves adhere to gravity, then will we know?  

Not for a second

 think this is not moving.  Your breath's imagination -- wow!

Ok, is this a butterfly

or a moth?  Does the lantana care?  Perhaps, call it "A Collaboration in Yellows."  
 

Imagine living

in a space where the door is oval.  Except there is no door.  Or perhaps this is an open window without a screen, and the front door is somewhere else in the house?  Oval doors.  Oval windows.  Open without screens.  Fodder for a narrative?  Or dream?