November 30, 2018

branches full of birds
sleeping in the rain again
we all dream of sun


November 29, 2018

driving, blinding snow
worried at not knowing
where my love has gone


November 28, 2018

walking into wind
feeling myself a vessel
a train whistle chimes in


November 27, 2018

the wind kicks up,
leaves swirling like stirred soup
I call my mother


November 26, 2018

cold November day
a chickadee with ruffled cap
looking overslept


November 25, 2018

how thrilling to see
an exhausted, storm-tossed bird
take wing again!


November 24, 2018

rain following rain
I imagine the meadow
drinking it all in


November 23, 2018

birds on branches
looking two sizes bigger
fluffed to fight the cold


November 22, 2018



the last few leaves
surprised by the morning sun
I hold on, too

November 21, 2018

November 20, 2018

deep diving through
the shipwreck of your life
guessing what went where


November 19, 2018

in trees and bushes
awaiting certain snow —
small birds and silence


November 18, 2018

drowsy in the cold
sleep around the next corner
the stinkbug stumbles


November 17, 2018

we talk, miles apart,
to build a common space
my frost, your moonlight


November 16, 2018

our long pilgrimage
so much time spent arguing
over what to bring


November 15, 2018

sudden snowstorm
we follow behind the plow
as it scrapes and sparks



November 14, 2018

let her be tired
but with a spring in her step
blushing at my name


November 13, 2018

the old fights flare up
with only the angles changed
ice glints in your glass


November 12, 2018

high overhead
a hawk rests in an updraft
my father’s still gone


November 11, 2018

November 10, 2018

meeting at last
you stop to show me the moon
all shadow and light


November 09, 2018

thick dark clouds stacked up
like planes waiting to land —
losing my father



November 08, 2018

testing its pull,
the fox hesitates, looks back —
long November nights


November 07, 2018

leaf-kicking season —
I dream again that we walk
side by side 


November 06, 2018

in invisible ink
on every star map you taught me —
your name, your name, your name


November 05, 2018

November 04, 2018

sunny park bench
with a cushion of leaves
fall's invitation



November 03, 2018

with the leaves fallen
a hidden nest appears
birds we never saw




November 02, 2018

November 01, 2018

searing gold and red
in one tree, seeming like two —
my ache and anger