The moon has red eyes
And left to right
Wings like birds all wide in flight
Through the trees
On October 3rd-
A quiet breeze –
Consolation rhubarb ice cream
Began to melt in the bitter cold
When I first met his gaze
Labor Day decorations coming down
And up again, the pumpkin heads
A silent chime as autumn mounts
And the shape performs yet again
I talk to it
I think it’s god
The bird thing will always be my friend
