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  

 The TV ain't no

mirror, man, nor a window 

but it is a mask 

Blue fades to black as

night's veil silently descends  

awakening fear

The needle points to

E and the tires are bare but 

still you claim a win

Shut the window and

plug your ears, but still the 

clamoring remains 

Wind through the trees sings

a songs for me as, bathed in 

dappled light, I swoon 

Language is a lost 

art due to emojis, don't 

you think? [winky face]

Like a cat curled and 

asleep in the sun she can

still pounce at a stroke 

Blinded by smoke and

confused by mirrors they nod 

and agree all's well 

When thoughts spiral, take

a breathe, a beat, and know we

are all just human 

Clouded sun hides its

light, but, like Salome it

begins to unveil