A humid October morning.
Your favorite season shrinks
more each year.

Women still needing
to reclaim their bodies.
Your body. How did we get back here?

29 years living
in one city. More than half
your life. How did you get here?

The driver is 11 years gone.

A few nights ago, an explosion.
The lights go out. The music stops.
The owl does not survive.

You’re all alone
in the dark
with your thoughts.

A day later,
you get trapped
on the wrong side of the tracks

when the longest freight train
passes through,
rattling on and on.

The blue morph snow goose is gone.
Wild turkeys have returned.
How did that rabbit on the trail die?

You stay outside
almost long enough
to see the sun set.

You hear a rumor
lumberjacks and
lighthouse keepers

are making a comeback.
Not necessarily in that order.
Sirens in the rain.