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.