split cordwood scattered on frosted red leaves
days before winter
you die in the fall
your voice greeting still on
hear me say I love you
September clouds
hide the sun then the moon
wild creatures know what to do
squash soup passing
hints of nutmeg through my mouth
spoon-fed fallautumn on the porch
writing a haiku
my pen casts a long shadow
humming birds gone
feeders half full sway in downpour
wind chimes play the blues
mother turkey in the shade
one through five survive
six, seven, and eight get ate
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