Apples are falling from their trees

spreading sweetness to the ants and the air.

I keep wishing for a horse to feed them to as we walk along.

Skunk fans her tail at my approach

and waddles into the weeds through a living cave of stem and leaf.

Sun holds to the distant side of the mountain

but warmth and light are rising.

Laughing as I scuff along, there’s coyote–

she’s wandered into the domestic zone

to sniff things out, yes, and to stir up every dog

in the neighborhood.

Yip yip and garble bark grff.

The graveyard rests out past the hollyhocks,

walking by each day settles me.

Raw, unpainted crosses, tilted

and cracked.

Rounded mounds of earth, peaceful

and heavy.

Can’t help but smell autumn this morning.