Armed

She steps forward

draped in good intentions and

positive affirmations

and checks herself in the mirror.

A nagging voice hovers

near her ear, chanting,

“Not good enough.

Not good enough.”

“Not today,” she says and

bats it away as she

opens the door to

the sunny street.

Tallow

Wan light, rendered from flame

and tallow

gutters on the coffee table.

Rain pounds, triggering the

hoarse voice of the sump

as the dark neighborhood huddles

waiting for a break in the clouds.

sleet

sleet gathers on the metal rails
brief respite as waves strain
to reach the descending sky
and all becomes one

November

Pumpkin on the porch

Puckered skin shrinking inward

Winter’s on the way