
“in every in-between / I was born ready / yet I have still afforded
to lose / over not having / a house / a man / a body / a life”
from The Call-out Fortunate autumn. September rushesOver our heads. Migrating flocksOf warblers, jays, petrels, thrushes,Come, then leave. The equinox,When the sun aligns with the equator,Passes. The dawns start coming later,The sunsets sooner. The sudden rainsDon’t last for long. The warmth remains.Goldenrod blooms, and even the rosesAre hanging on, this late in […]