autumn swept in

like a swift pull

of the comforter

over my head

in the dark I sunk deeper

like an unfurling leaf

into the comforts

a familiar sadness

like the sound of rain

lapping up the driveway

erasing traces of summer

an autumnal carving

space for thoughts

the kind that draw a circle

like your favorite song

or the drops of rain

dripping from the drainpipe

on the corner of the house

where I fled that summer

when it was hot and dry

and there was no blanket

to hide under

just the linen sheet

I claimed as mine

morning reappears now

less abruptly than

the sharp summer sun

that dragged us out of bed

before our eyelids even

shut, with sore cheeks and

headaches to match

our sleepy friends

lay half asleep

a few hours past the

sunrise, wrapped not in

warmth, but a light chill

fall morning is harsh

in its own way and

soft too, like the sweater lost

in the back of your cupboard

all summer long

It’s not your smile or your laugh

That I admire most

But your steady hand

Intertwined with mine

On the days it rained so hard

That our house shook

But our palms stayed

Silent and Still

Like the perfect sunset

From the dock down the hill

And steady too

Was my admiration

For the way you said

Reach up with me

To hold the roof

over our heads

So that our joy

Can stay steady, too

It’s not your smile

Or your laugh

But your steady hand

Intertwined with mine

For all of time

a new way to peel a grapefruit. something that sticks.

suddenly, something as small as a piece of fruit takes on new meaning.

avoiding citrus.

melon on the day with thunder.

inside it’s cloudy

a fly trapped

in the kitchen window by the sink

the cold porcelain

awaits underneath

for a moment the buzzing

a pause

I can hear the birds

and see the pear tree

and my stomach

ties itself in knots

like the washing of the bed sheets

linen, to your dismay

the window by the sink

it opens and the air

carries the buzzing outside

to untangle

to unravel

to peace

august slowly drifts

closer to autumn and

morning drags slowly

into cloudy afternoons

the restless nights of

summer disappear down

the dusty road with

my heart in its hand

and I’m left with you

and a super full moon

to hold on to

Summer hangs heavy

in the air and on my skin.

it’s hot and thick with a sweet

weightlessness about it, too.

the lines by my eyes draw

perfect tethers, to the days

it stormed. And the thunder

shook the house right under

my bones. The rain turned

dirt into flowers and back

to dust.

on the days it feels

like not even the sky

can hold the rain

or carry the anger

behind the thunder

not even the clouds

can stifle the sound

of the storms up ahead

we sit in our rage

swallowing our tears

choking on gusts

of wind and pain

and waiting

for who

to save us

it’s early now

your room smells of

cedar and fresh laundry

and your skin

tastes like the ocean and

the forest

all at once