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The still pond -

Duck ... duck duck duck ...

Duck ... duck duck duck ...

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Morning's grey mist ...

as the city returns

a game of fetch.

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Frosty morning ...

a city

of feathered caps.

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November second ...

that pumpkin's

fooling no one.

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Threads in the glass ...

city lights fray

in an autumn rain.

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The drone of black surf ...

a last ping

of sunset.

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Of things painful:

the child laughing on a high branch

... only watching.

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November first: rain ...

on the road

leaves I might've missed.

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Hard autumn rain ...

sympathy even for you

spider.

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