Category: Seasons

End of February

Aspen trees of rural Toten by Balke, Norway, in January 2025.

End of February

delicate brush strokes,
embroidery of deer
mouse tracks,
red fox paw prints
melt in the snow —

music
in the white silence,
aspen trees
trembling in the wind
put on flesh and sinew —

long have I shivered
in the cold,
long have I huddled
by the fire —

I only know
the long-awaited promise
draws near.






D. G. Vachal © 2025

Image by Oyvind Holmstad @ Wikimedia Commons https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Pilegrimskulturlandskap_21.jpg

Winter Tanka 1:2

1

flock of geese in flight
black petals against the sky
can you hear their call
on a sunset in winter
discordant harmonicas

2

trees in winter’s sun
cast long afternoon shadows
snow on their branches
wingéd angels garbed in white
singing praise in high places

D. G. Vachal © 2025

Images by Hans Benn @pixabay; Fietzfotos@pixabay

Autumn in the Gloaming

Autumn
in the long platinum
light of the gloaming
when pearls of time arrive and depart
with the wind-swept leaves —

I feel your nearness
your gazing eyes are falling stars
from the ebony sky,
your tender voice rustles the fern fronds
as you call my name —

tell me,
have I spoken your name with tenderness
at suspended moments
before the turning of a hundred seasons —

beyond the ocean tides of forgetting
have you come back to remember
what I have already forgotten —

Autumn in the gloaming,
mottled colors
cloaked in the deep purple mist
of my remembrances.

D. G. Vachal © 2024

Image by James Wheeler @ Pixabay

Could I Have Loved You More

Could I Have Loved You More

could I have loved you more
at moments  
when my heart
refrained from speaking —

would I at springtime sing
with tulips and apple blossoms
when as for love
there are no words?

silent was I in summer
amidst the warbled
music of bluebirds,
silent still
when peonies bloomed
scarlet
upon the velvet grass —

in autumn splendor
could I have loved you more
standing there
adorned in sunset gold and amethyst,
my muted syllables
would be stifled
by the melody
of violins and woodwinds —

when winter ivory feathers
clothe the swaying birch branches
would there be words of colors
to paint a love
more than a heart
can hold?

D. G. Vachal © 2024

Image by Alain Audet @pixabay

Late August

Late August

icy warmth of late August
the wind has quenched the fires
of ephemeral dandelions,
beryl drops of blood
trickle down the boughs,
return
to their invisible roots —

the cambric air is drenched in
honeysuckle fragrance,
stealthy leaves
flavescent
among the pink petals.

D. G. Vachal © 2013, 2024

Image by Jesper Norkenborg @pixabay