The Burnt Crown

Autumn woke up. He reddened nine leaves in his favorite valley and put a field of flowers to sleep on the mountainside.

Autumn found Summer at the fairy tree. He burnt the leaves gold on the branches and in her hair.

Then Autumn went to sleep again.

None approached Summer while she wore autumn colors. None interested Summer after Autumn’s morning quickie.

Summer laid in a clover patch outside Autumn’s underworld entrance. She crept closer in the moonlight and sniffed at his door, but Autumn slept soundly within.

The fact was, Autumn woke up for a night a couple weeks ago, colored a few leaves, planted a few seeds, and went back to bed. Autumn’s work came first in his life.

Summer didn’t know how to handle being No. 2.

Autumn knew how to handle Summer.


This post is part of the Poetry Jam's call for humor, which was brought on by Evelyn.

This is the 9th part of The Seasons. Here's the next part.

The Motivating Taste of Honey

A swarm of bees funnel over the land. No one knocked their nest about or stole their honey. Summer snuck into the hive last night while the queen was asleep and grabbed hold of everyone’s stingers.

And now tempers are heating up. The bees are drunk off a one-night stand.

The bees flex and growl so that all who live on the land notice they are buzzing for a fight, willing to take on anyone making a claim on Summer. At the apex of this taunting, the Wind or Rain or Fire will swat the bees out of their sexual stupor.

Of course, Summer will be criticized by the crows in the trees and men without the courage to approach her. Summer finds a certain humor in man’s fear of the unknown. When God changed Summer into the season she had to give up being a human, and most of being human, as Summer learned quickly, was the weight of worry.

Summer does not worry anymore. She is the greatest fertility goddess in the world. Summer provides something worth experiencing to any who let go of power when they grab hold of her waist, to any who do not care what the crows say for undressing with her in the tall grass.  

Summer has another month to live before sleeping in Autumn’s arms. Summer is alive in late August with the taste of honey in her mouth.



For dVerse's Third Eye Open.

This is the 8th part of The Seasons. Here's the next part.

Blogging Again

Blogging again routinely has been fun. I’m healthier and perhaps happier when I’m writing more consistently, though I do enjoy my breaks. Maybe it keeps my mind focused on fun places I like to imagine and not on things in this world I can’t change, like the fact that I’m still living between family and friends.

I miss living alone, being financially independent. I hate being a constant guest, though my family is on vacation and I am living alone for a month. But I have built this life myself since I was the one who turned down a couple job offers this year: the AOL job for Patch I tried out a couple times and a reporter’s position at a very good weekly newspaper.

The reason I turned them down is that I want to finish the project I’ve been working on all year, a multi-media story about my local animal shelter where I volunteered for about three years. It’s a very meaningful project to me. I am so grateful to have an amazing editor working with me. Right now, I am receiving data via the Freedom of Information Act to complete the project.

I can’t wait to share when it publishes late in the year.

Personally, I’m good. I’m recently in a relationship and we’re having a very good summer.

I’m going to be going through some changes at my website and blog soon, but hopefully there won’t be too much dust during reconstruction.

And thanks for all the sugar for The Seasons series:)

Garden Shadows

The earth is an old woman in her garden, doing the work, with dirt between her toes and fingers tipped with flowers, sugaring the land with water and laughter. 

The bears bring their young here. The monarchs breed here. The wolf pups play by the river.

The sunflower was born here, and so was every other flower.

I know where the raspberry bushes are loaded and sunlight trickles through mint leaves. A pumpkin patch grows every night. 

A stand of trees holds a sofa high in its branches. The old woman will sit with us and rub her feet at twilight. 

Later, while the world sleeps, we'll walk the stone path into each other's lives.

My touch is warm in the garden shadows. My heart is true.




For Open Link Night at dVerse.


This is the 7th part of The Seasons, a love letter from Spring to Summer. Here's the next part. 

The Forest in the Sky

The stars hang on giant black forest trees. The father of creation planted the forest before the beginning of time and now the trees fill the universe. He smithed the stars between his fingertips, lit them with his breath and placed them in the crooks of the great branches.

The stars squawked if placed too far away from earth. The old man answered the loudmouths by filling the back rows first so their light could get a jumpstart.

The stars were meant to decorate the giant forest trees, but the stars ended up as the sensation. No one noticed the ancient, magical branches holding up the stars, and so the trees naturally gave way and became invisible over time, choosing instead to reflect the glow of their own popular ornaments.

Winter, undistracted beneath her clear skies, saw this history beyond the moon and fell in love with the forest.

But Winter could not leave without leaving someone in charge. Winter controlled Fire. Winter ruled Rain. Only the wind was loose in the dead of winter, and so the Wind took charge while Winter went away.

Winter travelled to the secret forest in the sky, and the trees embraced her. The branches held her. The forest loved her in a way only a magic forest could.

Winter felt more special than ever dusting the black forest behind the stars. 

That first season the forest took her away, snow creatures paying attention wondered whether Winter would return to meet Spring. Truth was, she didn’t, at least not right away. Spring started growing babies in the land without going through Winter first.

But Winter came quickly, and Spring smiled when she did. Winter did that with Spring.


This is the sixth part of The Seasons. Here's the next part.

Summer of Loves

Fire loved Summer. Fire roasted the land when Summer arrived, and Summer had to make friends with the Wind to keep the land alive. Fire filled Summer’s sky with his smoke, making gray markings on her face until the Rain washed it all away, for the Rain loved Summer, too.

Of course, just like everyone else, the Wind also fell in love with Summer.

And so Summer decided she had had enough of balancing between strong elements. One year, after another blooming love affair with Spring but before Autumn made his appearance, Summer took Fire as a lover, and also the Rain. When the Wind stopped coming around because he felt jilted, Summer sought him out and became lovers with the Wind as well.

Summer became a sexual goddess. The largest buck searched for her at dawn in the meadows, and found her. The broadest eagle soared to the highest mountaintop where Summer ravished him, and after Summer released the screaming eagle into her night’s sky Summer ravished the mountain.

The first season of Summer’s love affairs was the wettest, hottest, steamiest summer ever on earth. “The summer of loves,” God chuckled.

And just when the blackbirds were jawing that Summer was out of control, Autumn showed up. All in pursuit of Summer backed away, and every creature stopped doing his or her early fall duties to watch and see what Autumn might do in a fit of rage. Autumn strolled through the meadows and smelled what had transpired, and Autumn stepped over the mountaintop and understood what had happened. Autumn felt the joy in the Wind and the radiant spark to the Fire and extra freshness of the raindrops. 

Autumn approached his flower queen in their favorite forest. Summer cared for nothing at the moment but her October lover, and that’s all Autumn wanted to know. All was right with the world. 

This is the fifth part of The Seasons. Here's the next part.

The Land, the Tree, the Wolves, and the Babies

Spring was the first to speak to the land, to make it laugh, to make it smile. Spring was the first to make the land love. 

The land grew flowers and buds on trees in the hopes of gaining the affection of Spring, and Spring gave the land just enough attention to produce life. Spring coaxed seedling children from the land with a whisper. The land opened her arms and released her babies through her surface as Spring called to them.

Sometimes Winter and Summer grew jealous of the land's relationship with Spring. Sometimes Winter would blow in late under a sheet of ice, frosting the land and killing the seedling children. Sometimes Summer would arrive early and burn the life out of the seedlings with her hot sun. 

Autumn tucked the land to bed. Autumn brushed the mane of the Wolf King as his pack burrowed dens in the cooling land. Autumn’s touch put the land and the wolves and all the seedlings to sleep. Autumn was content with a simple look of love from the land, for Autumn did not like too much attention. Autumn pruned the branches of the tree of life, which was the delicate artwork that decided which buds eventually bloomed and which didn’t. Only Autumn and the land knew this, for Autumn had many secrets with the land, including hiding seedlings and pups here or there, always protecting against a bitter Winter, which Autumn knew so well.

Autumn swept the land with his eyebrows, colored the land pretty with kisses, and promised her many babies when she woke up. And Autumn always kept that promise, and so the land grew to trust Autumn in a special way, which was another secret between the land and Autumn.

Winter and Summer both knew they couldn’t kill too many babies or God might grow unhappy. Both Summer and Winter liked their positions in the world very much and didn't want to be replaced.  

The truth was, Summer was a nurturing woman who loved the land's babies as she raised them, and the land grew to rely on Summer. But Winter was a natural destroyer, for creation does not exist without destruction and Winter knew it.

Winter did her whipping on the land with a smile on her face. There were secret stashes of sleeping life and Winter loved to search, for Autumn gave up quality information but never the most important details, which kept Winter hungry and searching.

Winter liked to drop a layer of snow on the land so she didn’t have to look at the land, but Winter also did this to insulate the babies and protect the land from Winter’s own wrath. Winter understood the futility of attempting to reduce our own personal power. If it is in our nature to strike, then we will strike. Best not fool ourselves that we can refrain from striking. Best prepare others and ourselves for the strike, which, curiously, often deadens the strike.

Winter was brilliant, and the land was grateful.


This is the fourth part of The Seasons. Here's the next part.

Four Super High Maintenance People

Spring, like all the seasons, was so much happier as a season. When Spring was a man, he entered parties and everyone felt better about their decision to attend. Women threw themselves at his feet. Spring created laughter wherever he went and nobody got enough of him. He was everyone’s best friend. Spring built community naturally.

Spring created life.

Summer was super sexy. When Summer was a woman, she showed off lots of skin in all the right ways and the men stared helplessly. Summer created admirers wherever she went. Only the brave approached her, and so Summer only knew men in the prime of life.

And Summer made those men sweat.

Autumn was dark and mysterious. When Autumn was a man, he chased away merriment and commotion wherever he went. When Autumn came around, it was like a ghost town. Those who weren’t scared away got to know Autumn and adored him, especially his darkness and his rich colors as he gave his life energy to his art.

Autumn created masterpieces.

Winter was frigid. When Winter was a woman and felt sunny, everyone became happy and gave thanks because those days were fewer than the overcast days. Not many men could live through her coldness and enjoy her. But for those who could, Winter was truly a breath of fresh air. Winter was unlike anyone else. 

Winter was magically beautiful.


For Open Link Night at dVerse.

This is the third part of The Seasons. Here's the next part.

Freeze Marks and Evaporation

Winter grabbed the world from Autumn, and Autumn had no choice but to give it up. Autumn had always been that way. Autumn could never say no to Winter. Winter liked to drop her coat on Autumn's world, thaw, run wet, and freeze again. 

Winter warmed with Spring. Winter felt Spring grow in her. Spring knew he melted Winter's world. Spring licked at Winter's secret freeze marks.

Summer took Spring to another level of life. Spring felt Summer’s first heat and opened up completely. Spring rained on Summer, and Summer sucked it back up into her sky.

Autumn could always talk to Summer, and Summer could relax with Autumn. Autumn soothed Summer’s stroke and cooled her world. Summer's embers died in Autumn.


This is the second part of The Seasons. Here's the next part.