Saturday, November 14, 2015

The wind blows the fallen leaves into a frenzy.
I stand there silent, doubt and rain clouding my vision.

Where can I go?  Even the ghosts are getting wet.
They are chasing the cats who are out playing,
Frightening the doe and her two fawns off the road
Just before a car clumsily rounds the corner,
The driver is half drunk and staring at me as he passes-
Soon the sound of the engine fades into the storm.

A quick gust sends me a step or two forward,
As if pushing me to make a move
But my arms have gone up
and I am spinning
As a stray maple leaf flies and strikes my neck
With an icy caress.