Cascade Steps

Light lightly glim’ring;
singing surf; cascading time;
slatted-wood t’mark where
Iteru meets her Eden.

Over the water,
w’thin the waves of crashing
flame, I sit ‘n write, to give
my riv’ring thoughts an
ink-blue chance at freedom…

The wind rescinds;
the breeze blows on;
the sound-waves sail o’er peaks ‘n troughs –
a cold, November morn’
about to crest its noon.

I’ll take the
trail of sun the Avon
lays before me, ’til I see,
upon that cobbled corner,
th’leaves of Autumn strewn…