first days of autumn —
on my way out the door
I grab a hat

another long night
without light or power —
Lee County

listening
to the water rise
in the dark

pale radish seedlings
putting all their energy
into finding light

triangular head
turning to keep me in view —
praying mantis

late night lightning —
we set our books aside
and watch the window

football weather —
the crowd's cheer floats to us
a perfect spiral

the sun's last rays
leave some orange behind —
top of the maple

autumn equinox —
my yawn after lunch
dividing the day

screech owl at dawn —
each of us wondering
why is she awake?

we set our plan down
in the middle of the flood
and watch it wobble

bringing umbrellas
to test the rain's resolve —
then again, wet seems fine

at the garden's edge
all green angles and cocked head —
praying mantis

filling the bird bath —
warm autumn afternoons
perfect for preening

maples leaves starting
to think about turning —
we switch to long socks

watch the grass revive
as rain soaks the earth —
we perk up too

early autumn —
the inside and outside air
call a truce

we each built a home
in the children's book section —
tucked like a bookmark

so deep our relief
when we could see stars again —
quiet constant guides

unrelenting rain —
we come home to remember
what dry feels like

restless starlings
swirling their way towards dusk —
I plan my trip home

full moon feeling close —
the moth we somehow let in
prefers to stay

driving west —
searing sun seeming to die
as it falls

morning puddles —
full to the brim with rain
I slept right through

goldfinches in fall —
knowing we'll all change our song
when the rain returns

now is the season
of small yellow butterflies —
adjusting our focus

Labor Day weekend  —
I flick the alarm button
to "off"

he tells us about
goldfinches in the garden  —
they fly as we look

rocks basking in sun
where the creek bed once was —
who cast this dry spell?

warm summer air
lifting the circling hawk —
small sliver of moon