The moon wastes no time
climbing the cold black bones
of the pin oak
I could have watched
burn yellow forever
A final flash from a sun
fled far over the horizon
reddens a line of poplars
once proud in September gold
reduced to blind old
dry brown brooms
sweeping
the dimming floor
of sky
I try to savor these
dusks that pass more and
more swiftly into nights of
icy-bright stars
as we approach Halloween
It’s been the best October ever for
Fall color and a smidge warmer
than usual, with a full moon at
either end of the month.
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