November magic

For a brief moment, sunrise alights the buildings – fire against purple clouds.

Then all is grey again; muted November.

Goose at Dawn


tall, sentinel,

upon morning’s rising

light, reflected o’er his wat’ry


A cinquain for the morning inspired by the proud-looking goose I passed along the canal on my way into work.

The Grey Dawning

Grey Dawn by Stuart Apsey at

The Dawn’s radiance was cloaked in grey as, solemnly, She snuffed out the night’s lights.

One by one, the stars flickered, while my hopes faded behind a curtain of shifting shadows.

I tried, but could find no beginning in that pallid ending.