Hallowe’en —

we scare a tiny monster

without meaning to

hand-me-downs —

photos of my mother

that I thought were me

how traffic reports

only stop being jargon

as we’re nearing home

today’s true story

is about a teenager

who still likes his hugs

outlines on the beach

where the castles stood —

anniversary

ginger snappy —

we all head back in

for our sweaters

the train whistle seems

lonelier than usual —

counting the hours

oh, flying squirrel —

no one will believe us

once we’re both home

busy all day

with forgetting

my father’s birthday

I was wrong

about those last leaves clinging —

they were letting go

sorry, bunny! —
that pesky car alarm
scares me, too

mid-October

frost in the forecast —

costume stores, too

I still feel it

encircling my finger —

lost ring

warm spell —

we put on summer dresses

one last time

(in memory of Catherine Perry)

roofline woodpeckers

busy at the corners —

annual checkup

dog at the door

the embodiment of joy

once I say “walk”

fewer deer this year —

my father explains

about the coyote

the day, still early —

giant leaf pile

before the jump

turning an apple

trying for a single peel —

I hold my childhood

almost-full moon

staying up late

to see the sun

amidst the splendor

one tree is already bare —

visiting mom

autumn rain

and the way it drips

into my dreams



Special bonus! Here is this haiku as translated into Esperanto by my friend Steven Brewer:

aŭtuna pluvo kaj kiel ĝi gutetas en miajn sonĝojn

it's just me,

front yard bunny —
no need to run

twenty pounds of grapes

seems like a jackpot

until we get home

birds in the trees

becoming leaves

as they settle

an edge in the air —

two bucks move in,

antlers lowered

winter comes closer

with each passing mile — 

our long drive north

garden stalks

bent low with their last blooms

full of bumblebees

early autumn —

the robin’s two-note warning

as the leaves turn