11/14
My sneakers, pillow,
Husband, and heating pads. Home!
Television too.

11/17
Under the leaves: nuts,
rocks. I slip. The vernal pool
is dry. I don’t fall.

11/18
Milkweeds planted the
first year of Covid produce
their very first pods.

11/19
Leaves rattle ‘cross streets.
Tar ribbons shine in fall sun.
Are we slouching yet?

11/20
This time of year sun
glares through southern windows at
three. I close the shades.

11/21
Both boys home first time
since Covid. A girlfriend too.
The dog is confused.

11/22
Billy: sixty-four.
Kennedy: gone sixty years.
The dates twinned always.

11/23
They brought both dogs which
meant we could relax. Puzzle,
food, more food, and fire.

11/24
An almost full moon
rose, the granite block empty.
Goodbye Columbus!

11/25
Up the hill toward home
morning sun warms nose and cheeks
even in chilled air.

11/26
“They ripped it down to
the roof and then built it up.”
A brand new chimney.

11/27
Our neighbor’s red drop
earrings caught the morning sun.
Swinging bits of fire.

11/28
Why can’t neighbors take
Montauk daisies before the
teardown? Such a waste!

11/29
The main character
has the worst haircut and I
just can’t get past it.

11/30
Five barrels topped with
leaves tilt into a tree trunk.
They are of one mind.