Tag Archives: autumn poetry

Red wine and rain (repeat 3x, fast)

Down came the rain like a permanent marker. The permanence of fall, of nature, of flame. And the gutters gasped, and the rain slapped until it made sparks when it hit. And down the panes like a waterfall, the cadence … Continue reading

Posted in prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 18 Comments


It is the time of moody records and blankets, and nearly the time of candles. Though there’s late afternoon sun it doesn’t have the same warmth and it’s wet, the ground smells, the earth sighs: and we are all holding … Continue reading

Posted in Memoir, prose | Tagged , , , , , , | 21 Comments

Rainer Maria Rilke made me write this

The afternoon sky looks pregnant but it’s too early to tell. And the tall trees reach to tickle its belly with stick fingers drawn by a kid. The dishwasher and drier are running, and there’s a pot on the stove … Continue reading

Posted in death, prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 9 Comments

Song for mid-autumn morning

In the morning just past 6, though it might as well be the middle of the night. Headlights cut the dark, but it always grows back. The fog gives an illusion of light through the ambiguity it stirs, makes snow … Continue reading

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Broken clouds (in the face of mirrors)

The sky returned what we saw in it but like a mirror, it lied: It lied on your wedding day when you thought it brightened just for you: It lied when you carried your cat to the vet’s office to … Continue reading

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Mid-autumn morning

Sun blotted to a smudge, that’s all. No wind, only jets, frogs, clocks: barely a sound when the last leaf falls.

Posted in musings, poetry | Tagged , , , , | 11 Comments

This is all we have, right now

Sometimes it’s hard to believe you’re gone, the way you half-smiled the same as me — the last time we talked on the phone I remember, your stories about the time you were in London too. Maybe every moment is … Continue reading

Posted in musings, poetry, writing | Tagged , , , , | 10 Comments