Poem: Autumn

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.

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