Phases Poem by Jim Manning

Longing for a return to a simpler condition,
I came to your path, where dogwood leaves
throb red under my touch—a constant heart.

Autumn: our trail is lined with transforming
oak leaves, green to yellow, to brown—fuchsia
and tarweed shimmer and nod along a creek,

where tendrils of virgin’s bower bud weave
filaments that spread like veins and arteries—
life-blood flowing around obstructions.

Beyond, we hear hounds howl—hunting season, tension.
Time for bears to move into barbed brambles—
way from roads, to mate and hibernate.

Winter slips by, weathered acorns sprout
in fertile soil, pink leaves erupt from seedlings,
lupine and penstemon flourish among melting snow patches.