Death’s Tap

Death’s Tap

Frost makes frozen confection of the lawn

while ice forms– too soon–upon the pond

with angled etchings of  broken twigs,

mirroring the season to come…

Schiele, detail

The dock is slippery when I cross

so I proceed with care

as if at a viewing,

of Summer past.

Just as I step down upon the rock

that leads back to the road,

I am tapped on the shoulder

by a hanging branch



Kelly Salasin, Late Autumn 2009