The Winds of Autumn Autumn Scene, photo by Richard Loller.

Dante A. Cinelli

Photo by Richard Loller

Copyright 1998 by Dante A. Cinelli

The winds of autumn blow hard and true,
Great oaks bend, and maples too.
The burst of flame among the green,
Portents of flurries yet unseen
There' s yawn of life in every face
A dawn of cold and ice in place
A life will fade, its ember gone
But ten anew will grow anon
Then will spring come round again,
A new born fawn will seek the glen.

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The Dancer with the Wind

Dante A. Cinelli
Copyright 1999 by Dante A. Cinelli

The name Wind Dancer reflects the approach to my life,
I danced with all winds fleeting by,
But now I choose the wind without strife
As myriad stars whirl on high
The dance, although slowed, is still focused and prime,
Blossomed zephyrs caress head to feet.
But the brow is unbent , unaltered by time,
Dance continues in snow or in sleet.
Whips and scars show my soul in shimmering light
so bruised, so battered and sinned,
But like the wiser bamboo in a copse on the hill,
I'll bend softly and sway with the wind.
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Fading Light

Dante A. Cinelli
Copyright 1999 by Dante A. Cinelli

One's footprints in the snow remain,
as long as it is cold,
with no retrace of steps
to days of golden old.
As days become much shorter,
then nights begin to grow.
The stream of expiation begins to stop in flow.
So set the heart in righteous path
to the one who shed your tears.
Perhaps mutual forgiveness
might melt some wasted years.
If friendship is the gold of life,
somewhat rare and hard to find,
then those who find the jewel of love,
to heart must weld and bind.
So lift a flue of deep red wine to toast uncharted ends
and drink a draught of bittersweet
in toasting long gone friends.

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The Arrow and The Soul

(On the death of a friend's wife)
Dante A. Cinelli
Copyright 1999 by Dante A. Cinelli

WHEN AN ARROW FLIES TO AZURE BLUE,
THERE IS A SOUND, A WHIR
BUT A SOUL THAT WINGS IT'S WAY TO HEAVEN
IS SILENT, AND NO STIR
A VALLEY SLEEPS IN SILENCE,
BOWED HEADS CASCADING TEARS,
AWAITING FUTURE SUNSHINE
IN REMEMBERING THE YEARS

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