November Second

Gathering thoughts, but 

Unlike swiss chard harvest, no 

Frozen memories. 

Spoiled Soup

I set the lid on top

And it vanished

Until the next morning, 

When my brother confronted me 

Stern, narrow face, 

And then my mother, 

"Why did you leave the soup out last night?" 

It wasn't very good anyway... I replied, 

Attempting to veil one shortcoming with another, 

Then ducking out the door

To disappear the pot's contents once again, 

This time into the stomachs of our chickens. 

Heart sick, I guess. Why? 

The leaves are falling, fallen. 

Flash of color, fade. 

Keeping Up

Ah yes, this again. 

Pause at the end of day, string 

It together, dots. 

Active imagination and phobia

Bad idea, little one, to 

Watch World War Z unrated, 

Not long before bed. 

(Is it really a mineral? I have a feeling it isn't)

Rub the side of hand 

In graphite, dark mineral. 

Your skin marks paper 

Travelers

Homecoming. Stones, food, 

stickers, and presence. Their fire

burning bright again. 

Tapestry

Lazy fall day. Leaves,

red-veined, brought home after walk.

Life looks up, blue sky.  

At least two sides to every story

Yesterday the rain 

Left my heart, last night I dreamt 

Of your own sadness. 

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