autumn deepens

the cut in my foot has lost
its red line

tunnel vision

the darkness returning
each of our words

Covid notebook

all the pages abandoned
for a green stain

where they felled it

the paper mill chimney’s last cloud

attention

turning to another world the thump of roadkill

laundromat coyote

snout out of order

stairwell

at the spiritual center bleeding green

hiding

in the forest fires formaldehyde

on foot

the empty streets smell of rain

rough sleeper

in an alcove
stained glass

morning fog

woken by a text
about birds

storm cellar

one last Mason jar
of white lightning