this evening
with no dog barking . . .
autumn wind

decayed wet leaves —
on the storm drain
a blanched worm

Calder sculpture;
a single brown leaf tumbling
from the sky

autumn wind —
from next door’s garden
the sound of hide-and-seek

full moon
my monthly loss
for words

morning fog —
the dog keeps some slack
in his leash

late fall
one by one parachutists
return to earth

Christmas shopping —
my daughter’s lip rolls
into her mother’s pout

fading light —
his voice in the crowd
of shadows

empty page
the dog’s gray muzzle
on my knee