October weight settles on maples
in thick wet mounds that bend
branches until they rip
away from limbs.
Power lines bow and bounce
beneath white as it slips
off in long, crashing dashes
and a citywide blackout
brings traffic to a freeze.
I’ve pushed the bed
against the window
and lie pillowed in the frame
watching early snow
frock my backyard.
As beautiful as it comes,
I know this kind of falling
soaks through carefully worn
layers and leaves a bitter chill.
