Birds circle:

rich entertainment

and in the middle of it

nature not quite dead.

The sun’s blade makes

one last stab

across my back.

I am leaving you,

October of my grieving—

your gray head

your orange skirt flouncing

round your ankles.

I drive east in low gear

along the unmuscled arm of Ohio

heading toward November.

And as the sun falls behind me

trees huddle to mask

disaster. Darkness, unwelcome

takes over the sky.

I thank the stars for making

a colander of night.

I look up and ahead

through heaven’s perforation.

The landscape shrivels past—

I am Orpheus in a dress

and Eurydice blind.

I drive under an overpass.

Lights strain, headlights on the bridge

gleam like the eye

in the head of an oracle.

First published by Kelsay Books in February 2023.