Sep 11
Black ball maters turn half red when they’re ripe.
Not quite the season’s last ones, but getting close.
Keeping the path clear, through the hay field,
past the garden shed, to the compost.
Can be seen from space.
Mowing standard: grass no more than one snake deep.
Sterilized old chimney rocks built around the culvert
over the north branch of the branch,
forty years ago, all grown in.
Chocolate veined ferns.
The warning, the promise,
it’s starting to fall fast.
Sep 22
Fall’s upon us,
laid that maple low.
As the sugars rise and flow
and assign each leaf its brilliance,
it’s time for the changes.
After two full years without a cat,
we broke our fast with Lilly, five years old,
rescued from a cross-country move.
Oh, she holds down a lap, chases a laser, meows a little,
but showed no interesting quirks of character.
Until the other night.
We’re rethinking.
Max, four German Shepherds back, used to bite water.
Had a few kittens who flirted with the shower drain.
Never had a cat who sits in running water.
Be ready to take it and run when you tell the universe:
surprise me!