I chart the dunes where Quercus rubra grows
Salt crust on boots where northern wind still blows
The Ferris wheel stands sentinel in rust
Its gondolas hold only October dust
My logbook dries on driftwood turned to bench
I smell the loam beneath the fractured plank
No compass needed where the knotweed spreads
Just tidal rhythms in the rooting threads
Autumn parks keep time in slower ways
No cotton candy clouds or summer days
The sailor rests where poplars shed their crowns
And Quercus alba drops its brown acorns down
I talk to Rosa rugosa by the gate
Her hips are ripe she tolerates my weight
No storm surge here just frost on metal ribs
The midway sleeps in shadowed fibonacci
The carousel horses freeze in gallop pose
Manes brushed by birch not salt wind off the bows
I press my palm to bark of Acer rubrum
Feel xylem rising where the tide once pulled them
Autumn parks keep time in slower ways
No cotton candy clouds or summer days
The sailor rests where poplars shed their crowns
And Quercus alba drops its brown acorns down
No log to keep no watch to stand at dawn
Just photosynthesis stretching on and on
My skin remembers how the swell would feel
Now chlorophyll heals what salt could not heal
The ticket booth holds spores of Ganoderma
Shelf fungi bloom where paint has cracked and tore
I sow no seed I only watch and wait
Patient as the tide at half past eight
Autumn parks keep time in slower ways
No cotton candy clouds or summer days
The sailor rests where poplars shed their crowns
And Quercus alba drops its brown acorns down
Autumn parks keep time in slower ways
No cotton candy clouds or summer days
The sailor rests where poplars shed their crowns
And Quercus alba drops its brown acorns down
Roots hold fast where anchor chains unwind
Peace grows wild in ground I've come to find
Feral carousel turns underground
Feral carousel turns underground
