Burns Poetry is a collection of my poetry over the years.
Cold air from northern land wanders south to glorify its southern neighbor with a prophetic gift of a frosty morning.
It is an unexpected visitor in the early autumn Saturday on the manicured descendant of the Oklahoma prairie.
But what is glory?
To the cold air, it is ephemeral artistry in the medium of eternal water.
For my Oklahoma home where the trees still sing quietly of summer,
it is the few leaves of the trees which, having heard the prophecy of the cold, change their colors
awakening in their dying.
But to the tilting Earth, all is glory and all is in its own time.