listening for the wind

as we count our candy —

tornado warning

foggy morning —

my heart mistakes a stranger

for my first love

walking through a cloud

mist in our hair and hands —

jewels everywhere

when I could hear

but not yet see the river —

love’s beginning

just before the frost

a bent and leaning dahlia —

our final flower

HT: https://twitter.com/Skoobruoydaer/status/1188522383650410496

after the rain —

gently moving earthworms

back into the grass

geese calling out

their thanks to the wild blue —

my pounding heart, too

in full view

now that the leaves have fallen —

nests from last spring

sunlight beginning

to overtake starlight —

leaning into love

is a corn stalk

in the midst of a wheat field

just a weed?

no more searching

for his birthday present —

empty October

refusing
to be shushed by the river —
fall’s last few crickets

favorite part

of my art show photo —

your reflection

my father taught me

that we could see the wind —

whitecaps on the river

watching our big boy

grow into his gifts —

tall grass gone to seed

fallen ginkgo leaves

shining their golden light

back up to the sky

almost time

to see our breath again —

cold autumn morning

miles apart

we remind each other

to look at the moon

autumn Saturday —

we toss our neighbor’s ball

back over the fence

easier to see

now that some leaves have fallen —

the almost-full moon

whether we’re watching, 

whether it’s day or night —

stars and their confident shine

poke berries

bursting with poisonous ink —

the words I won’t write

bees in the orchard

and the sweet smell of cider —

I whisper your name

bedtime stories —

turning back to the first page

one more time

early autumn —

summer’s bug bites

still itching

sometimes I kiss her

just to feel that sudden drop —

you know the one

casting a line out

to where I’ll be

when the moon is full

potatoes waiting

for someone to pull back 

a layer of earth

early fall evening —

we and the garden

listening for rain

just the call

with no response —

widow cardinal

midday sun —

every shadow too small

for a nap