Masquerade
Trish Shields
heralds for the coming freeze
trumpeters stalk the stalks
stubble from a summer’s bounty
fodder for the season’s cold
geese mingle yet keep their distance
poor cousins to the stately swan
humble squire amongst the noblemen
dip and parry slip and tarry
black and brown outnumber white
minions with waste coats
attending highborn at a masquerade
masking only perceived beauty
both aviary squadrons survivors
in the terrible splendor of winter
falling down
Trish Shields
intensely vivid
each hue and shade unforgettable
golden, alizarin, amber, verdant, carmine
sage, jade, salmon, crimson, ochre, burnt, ginger
smells that feast the eye
entice the nose a bouquet for the soul
falling in patterns unrealized
mosaic of crisp down awaiting
frost etching muck and snow
bitter
Trish Shields
implacable winter
cold and unforgiving
mirrored in the icicle blue of her eyes
terrible in her deliberate beauty
dead to the heartfelt song of love
a mockingbird lying silent in snow
of things to come
Trish Shields
morning grass is white
crystal roofs glisten
puffs of breath steam
in the chill air of autumn
hardy roses tomatoes fruit trees
stand curled withered impatient
waiting for promised slumber
leaves once brilliant now brown
wisps of summer memories
blow hither and yon by
the brisk touch of time
Orion stars fall falling
streaks of brilliance sparkling
across the Comox Valley
portends of things to come
Cannibalism in Autumn
Trish Shields
sitting sullen by the seashore, waiting
for the waves to roll there, stroll there over me
lunar pull that lies within, not abating
as the water, harsh and salty, eats me free
from my bondage, make me silage, into dirt
pillage plenty, use the sand to scour me
Poseidon’s wrath a welcome thing or worse
as bones are broken, sucked and left at sea
to be formed and shaped, eaten and exhaled
into darkness of the night, cloud consumed
to return as moisture for the earth that rails
pleading flooding saving throats from doom
as each drop of me springs forth in floral form
to rise again as one with summer’s coming storm
Sundown
Trish Shields
it was a long hike
easy at first but then
branches snatched at my hair
roots grew up to trip me
and the twisting of trunks
by canopy winds broke
my concentration
covered in sweat
I collapsed in a clearing
blood pounding in my ears
shaking hands tore at
my clothing pushing sweat
from my hair until I lay
softly with a breeze as company
crickets soothed in rhythm
as wisps of clouds streaked the sky
still blue in the evening
soon red followed
as if the heavens had wrestled
with Mother Nature, too
long scratches deepening
rending the peaceful blue
my eyes followed their course
deep into the forest
where the sun died in brilliance
long dry summer, ought four
Trish Shields
clouds at distance pay homage to the wind
snagged softly on spires of granite and shale
whispering through fields baked, broiled and singed
as the earth gasps in breath both old and frail
awaiting that moment when tears of respite
fall pitter patter or in buckets galore
neither matters as the thirsty fields swell tight
with droplets of honeyed dew, promised more
as maternity clouds waddle by spilling
their precious cargo with wanton release
the green shoots of life spread all too willing
hoping God’s tears will know no surcease
supping on honeyed dew, promises and more
thus ending the long dry summer, ought four
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