Monthly Archives: October 2016

October 31 [Book of October]

October 31

The end is artificial. We always knew
And put it there to make the shadow

Of what follows seem smaller

*

In the end’s private library
Past volumes beyond count

Each with only the last leaf
Tucked between dusty boards

The end finds a bookmark

*

The end is a bridge
We have crossed before

From the other side
So long has passed all

That’s the same is the bridge

October 30 [Book of October]

October 30

October, like a bird my son has never seen
Until today, in his tenth time through the month.

October the penultimate, telling you the end
Is next but it’s the one after.

October shown without commercial interruption
With the generous support of spring, summer,

Birds, skunks, possum, screech owls, moonlight,
Children, snowmelt, drugstores, the sandman,

The sandman. October the candy wrapper
And the not knowing who opened it

And if it was you and was it yours
And does it matter. You blink your eyes

Because of all I’ve left
Out and which only you could tell yourself

And how it wouldn’t fit,
None of it, and that’s October, too–

The mirror you’ve been looking at
Forever that’s actually someone else.

October 27 [Book of October]

October 27

Before the soft rain the leaves
Finally sing their groundswell chant

They who met the sun first each day
Now embracing the earth without regret

Walking through the leaves releases
Whispers of crisp wishes burning

The air we breathe is on fire with wishes
The soft rain gathers in the branches

Overhead, hovers, a dark respectful canopy.
It’s not used to going any farther but where

Are the hands that caught it so easily
And sent it to the center of things

October 23 [Book of October]

October 23

This time the sunset moves closer
To the sunrise before it the west coast

Closer to the east it seems the leaves
Collect the sunset’s color and bring

The sky closer to the ground
Our past and future closer all this

Memory for us each to read through
the long night and the cold winter

October 22 [Book of October]

October 22

Morning after the rain the creek
Brags its long story.

The breeze picks up
The chatter of leaves.

The maple shrugs about it
But in months to come it will

Shoulder a strongman’s
Burden of snow and ice.

My children race around
The trunk chasing the leaves that

whittle the air unpredictably
On their way to the ground

Sketching out for them their
Invisible future

One day they too will fall
Away from the family tree

Who will be running to catch
Them I wonder