Monday, November 29, 2021


One of late fall's cruelest tricks—
the repeating patterns 
of symmetrical bramble 

where abundance 
and plenty 
and multiplicity once stood.

No more ears 
of colored kernels on 
the corn stalks, 

no moss 
among the farmhouse bricks.
And elsewhere, across 

every deserted city park, 
warped baseball diamond, 
desiccated front lawn,

stems, trunks, vines, stalks—
all blossoming 
with the colorless 

fruit of autumn's sameness, 
all in illustrious bloom
with our loss.