two old cicadas
checking in with each other —
"Hard frost?" "No, not yet."

misdiagnosis —
she looks one more time
for a doctor who listens

no food, no power,
no water, no cell service —
all we can think of

pulling over
on the way to somewhere
to watch clouds light up

feeling the weight
of each log in its place —
stacking firewood

closing my eyes
to concentrate on summer —
last ear of sweet corn

sweeping goldenrod
its arc bending towards the light
we know is dwindling

we tuck the roots in
with the leaves that have let go —
sugar maple

I needed to hear
my path was survivable —
National Coming Out Day