September 30, 2013


the leaves that neither
turned brilliant colors nor fell —
this is their haiku


September 29, 2013


out of town guests
making hand-gathered bouquets
of our fallen leaves


September 28, 2013

the fox by the road 
lines drawn with liquid grace, 
even in death



September 27, 2013


cooler days
mayflies come inside to say
hello and goodbye


September 26, 2013


laughing at myself
when the neighbor’s darn porch light
turns beautiful moon


September 25, 2013


box of owl pellets —
the science teacher stands there
grinning


September 24, 2013


the day’s early start
a spider begins her web
in moonlight


September 23, 2013


the call and response
of bedtime affirmations
love’s layered quilts


September 22, 2013


day’s end
and the sound of a dog’s sigh
curling into it


September 21, 2013


black before
the rest of the world goes dark
pine trees at dusk


(Last week, Jonathan Ferrell, a former Florida A&M football player who recently moved to the Charlotte, N.C., area to be with his fiancée, had a horrible car crash. The 24-year-old broke out the back window to escape and walked, injured, to knock on the nearest door for help. Now, Ferrell is dead. The neighbor he asked for aid called 911 (“He is trying to kick down my door,” she cried on the phone), and one of the responding police officers shot the unarmed Ferrell 10 times.)

September 20, 2013

September 19, 2013


her confident gaze
this time, surely, the tree hides
a squirrel


(With Robin Segal and Junie in Toronto.)

September 18, 2013


following a path
shaped by the needs of deer
food, water, safety



September 17, 2013


“Go look at the moon,”
she tells me, and I try to,
but here comes a cloud...


September 16, 2013


late night walk
wishing the skunk family
the best of health


September 15, 2013


these now-bare branches
stirring up the Milky Way
cold nights on their way


September 14, 2013


sweeping the porch
at the end of the party
autumn breeze


September 13, 2013


we can’t get over
her busy little nibbles
backyard bunny


September 12, 2013


distant sirens
and the shine of wet pavement
after the storm

(Holding the people of Seaside Heights in my heart.)

September 11, 2013


oh, okay, August
come back to visit
but just for today!


September 10, 2013


one last heat wave
I join the spirea,
wilt at the edges



September 09, 2013


autumn’s colors
a brand new folder
for every subject


September 08, 2013


honking and jostling
over this year’s alphabet
geese getting ready


September 07, 2013


it seems we’re adrift
until we look behind
and see our wake


September 06, 2013


moonless night
my father’s voice in my head
as I name the stars



September 05, 2013




old climbing tree
so big it fills up the frame
of this summer day



September 04, 2013


poking holes
in the morning’s fabric
treetop crows



September 03, 2013


mosquitoes sneak in
to hum duets with our
refrigerator


September 02, 2013


end of the day
discovering that we both saw
that tiny bunny