Gathering
October came rushing in early, demanding
we listen to her winds while we were handing
fruit to basket from the tree-mother
and grabbing handfuls of her apple-skirt
shaking fireworks into dirt
one finale-burst-explosion, and another
We shuffle, gather through bee-lined grasses
Sun returns as cold wind passes.
First appeared in Time of Singing periodical
First appeared in Time of Singing periodical
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