Autumn
Only the unbirded raspberries remain
To be picked by other fingers;
The last egg consoles itself in the refrigerator.
Look, between the two spruces in the yard—
That’s where the blue heron flew.
***
Unmount the classroom tables
Thirty-two scarred chairs.
Set the purple quartz and hawk’s feather by the
Pencil sharpener. Stuck between the windows,
A pigeon flutters.
Jack, I liked this poem so much. Thank you for sharing it. Ellen
Thanks for reading, Ellen. Always nice to get feedback.