Along October’s hot body
In-between breezes
An azure canopy.
Last minute locusts,
A ratchet of rusty clicking.
Black crickets,
In point, counterpoint.
Crossfire of small grasshoppers
Sunmmer’s progeny, here, there, gone.
Sugar maple yellow,
Gourd orange, scarlet ivy.
Ramble, meander, saunter
In this sensual harvest
Entering the cool tunnel change.
Welcome to the official website of Rita Coleman, poet and nature photographer.
Rita Coleman senses “the wild rumble of sky/ and earth before it rattles the bones of the living.” She sees human beings as “tribes of stars . . . in the blue knowing.” She challenges the mythical Narcissus to find “mirrored passion . . . rather than the shallow reflection of his face in a pond.” Her spare and surprising lines bring sunshine into the depth of our existence.
–David Lee Garrison, Author of Playing Bach in the DC Metro
