September 30, 2017

cooler nights
the kisses she blows my way
take their sweet time


September 29, 2017

no trains running
trying to catch some warmth
we edge towards the fire


September 28, 2017

the first cool breeze
we all turn to face it
sighing with relief


September 27, 2017

failing at sleep
the downstairs cricket
starts back up again


September 26, 2017

September 25, 2017

birds singing the song
of our new backyard pool —
forgotten sprinkler


September 24, 2017

checking the bare spots
before heading up to bed
grass seed still just seed


September 23, 2017

dreaming again
of my grandfathers’ gardens
worlds built by hand


September 22, 2017

September 21, 2017

traveling at dusk
we realize we’ve reached the end
of firefly season


September 20, 2017

dreams of flying
in the morning, your lips graze
the back of my neck


September 19, 2017

our front walkway
crowded with fallen flowers
mid-September rain


September 18, 2017

tea shopping
we let the scents carry us
back to our grandmothers


September 17, 2017

so many bees
they may outnumber the blossoms
we try to count


September 16, 2017

mid-September drive
as dusk deepens to black,
more crickets than cars


September 15, 2017

late day sun
lending the grass its orange
my father takes his pulse



September 14, 2017

September 13, 2017

driving away
knowing I’ll feel that tug
our stories, entwined


September 12, 2017

cooler nights
we lavish our attention
on an indoor cricket


September 11, 2017

nine-eleven
when crisp blue skies kindle
thoughts of smoke and ash


September 10, 2017

years later
flood lines halfway up houses
Irma’s legacy


September 09, 2017

idle at anchor
afraid of what we’ll learn
I avoid your name


September 08, 2017

some part of me still
under the imagined roof
of willow branches


September 07, 2017

September 06, 2017

broken bird’s egg
this tiny, perfect dome
no longer needed


September 05, 2017

the sudden silence
as boots come closer
crickets and their dreams


September 04, 2017

the last of the rain
singing softly to itself
I take myself to bed


September 03, 2017

two raccoons huddled
at the edge of the storm drain
weekend still slipping by


September 02, 2017

her shaky breath
a small sign of bravery
the rain starts back up


September 01, 2017

first day of fall
another round of lay-offs —

petals floating down