Fragile, Gradual Things

October stubs her toe. She keeps darkness in her hoodie.
And just when you want to ask how many faded sunsets
she’s hiding in her pocket, October blurts out, “How many
other dogs do you see out here? Aren’t you the lucky one?”
Sometimes she comes out of nowhere, -brilliant &magnanimous.
Other days she limps over the horizon, – pale &unannounced.
And just when you think you’ve got October pinned as a long
lost friend, there’s a dead mouse lying in her hay-hacked field.
But there was an instant, just last night, when the black birds
she’d been harboring returned to the air in free spirit.
October’s a wizard &stirs the sky into afternoon rain.

for Real Toads

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44 thoughts on “Fragile, Gradual Things

  1. I love this poem! The lines that stand out for me are:
    ‘And just when you think you’ve got October pinned as a long
    lost friend, there’s a dead mouse lying in her hay-hacked field.’

    1. Ah, but you do take pictures! Ala Instagram:) Magic is where we find it. Now this reminds me to hop over to your blog to follow up on that story attached to that nostalgic railroad track 😀

      1. Oh, that railroad track. I’ve taken so many photos there…the last one (not in this post) ended with a sheriff chasing me off with threats of a fine. Oopsies! Who knew??

  2. What a pleasant study and reverie of October, starting with the month stubbing the toe. Frankly, this is a comfort. Last week we finally got a taste of real October. This week summer has returned. Disappointing! Dressing in layers, “pale evenings,” a friend. Even with a dead mouse. October should be special. Thank you!

    1. Thanks, Susie. It’s great to know I haven’t lost my touch with writing, as I’m losing touch with the discipline (well, I am writing grad school reaction papers weekly). And thanks for this poem’s tweet! Happy Fall

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