First Evening of September

On the front porch on a breezy evening

when the weather’s still summer but the mood is fall:

the kids on their bikes raucous and wild,

the light of a jetliner like Venus in motion,

someone cruising by in a convertible couple,

cats chasing insects, imaginary and real,

a neighbor’s flag flying upside-down,

create-myrtle branches gently swaying,

Italian music and a glass of red wine.

The only thing missing’s someone to share it.

 

Copyright 2018

T. Allen Culpepper

Landscape with Treeline

Through a grid of paned windows

fronted by slatted blinds,

wild, twisted branches
fan out across
grey winter
landscape:
Sky,
water
divided
by stripe of trees,
murky green, rooted
in yellowish-brown grass;
seen from a lonely window
just at chilly daybreak
on the Sunday
a few days
before
Christ-
mas.

Copyright 2014

T. Allen Culpepper

An Otherwordly Moment

otherworldtree

It’s called the golden hour, says a friend,

the leading edge of autumnal evening,

when an eerie, unearthly light seeps in

to make a familiar landscape alien,

when, perhaps, this world’s inclination

grazes the portal into another; the

street stretches empty in front of me,

with a car or two, the odd dumpster

set out at curbside early, but no

human sound or movement, nor even

the bark of a dog or fleeting motion

of a prowling cat, all still and silent

except for the rustle of a ragged

wind through the orange and brown

leaves of the great oak next door,

its branches billowing out into a vacant

sky the uneasy color of watery blue

filtered through the rosy shades

of solitude in denial.

 

Copyright 2014

T. Allen Culpepper

An Aubade of Sorts

 

My dawn doesn’t race across the sky

in a chariot, or even on a Vespa;

it  merely filters in through milky sheers.

 

You depart with sleepy eyes and

a half-hug, carrying your shoes,

but no tragedy ensues:

 

I enjoyed your company;

I’ll probably see you again.

It’s all good.

 

But right now, there’s fresh coffee,

a cheese omelette, my journal,

on a day with no one’s agenda.

 

Copyright 2013

T. Allen Culpepper