Suddenly it’s too
chilly to wear a tshirt.
Autumn’s in the house.
Clothing exchange
1
Suddenly it’s too
chilly to wear a tshirt.
Autumn’s in the house.
Suddenly it’s too
chilly to wear a tshirt.
Autumn’s in the house.
Back east, the skies are
clearing, blue unending. Cool
dampness. Leaves changing.
Nighttime landscapes blaze.
Lines of fire on hillsides trace
borders of life death.
Evacuated,
one woman watched her home burn
live on CNN.
A walk uphill at
4am to say goodbye
to the neighborhood.
Cup of pleasure wafts
aromatic steam warming my
lips pursed for a sip.
California burns.
Your life separate from us?
Now just smoke and ash.
We visited once.
Soaked in your hot tub under
the lemon tree’s shade.
Spring Valley is bone
dry. Here in New York skies rain
tears of compassion.
What’s necessary?
The triage of memory.
A pyre to the past.