Shimmering water 

calls but the air like death's breath 

denies the descent 

Blighted by beauty

and lacerated by love 

we crawl towards our end

Grieve for poor Brutus,  

brutish or not, who at a

loss fell on his sword 

On the far shore I

saw among the fog-shrouded 

trees a beast prowling 

The dahlias and

cosmos are beautiful in

their dying throes 

The peppered sunlight

plays on pale green leaves that sway

ever so gently

Slither and shake, 

writhe and wallow among the

fallow fields in fall