Three Three-sentence Conversations (October 4-6)

My daughter wanted to see three fall subjects this time around: wolves, costumes, and leaves. She actually listed a fourth—pie—but I told her we’d already covered pie. She loves a good pie poem. And, yes, I’ve written others before.

one: WOLVES and the Dinner Date Cut Short

“I don’t believe in wolves,” he said.

“Werewolves, you mean?” she said.

“What’s the difference?” he said.

two: COSTUMES and Sounds of Words

“You have to say it PE-can!” June said. Hand held out to the side her brother wasn’t on, fist clenched, she was done bargaining. “Say it right or starve, Andy. I ain’t messin’ around.”

three: LEAVES and Pages that Fall

            “What is it about fall that makes you get all nerdy about this reading stuff?”

“Something about the connection between leaves and pages, I think. They both turn, you know.”

She says tomorrow's topic is skeletons. Until then...

"Pumpkins and Patches" (October 3)

When Daina texted me my autumnal poem topic for the day, I was reminded about how twelve year olds live unimpressed. 

I hope you enjoy this poem. It caught me by surprise on my first reading. It could be a little moving if you're feeling it. And here I was, thinking you might get a light, rhyming pumpkin poem out of me. It turns out pumpkins are deep. Who knew? 

Pumpkins and Patches 

Each October

middle schools hang in hallways

the false symmetry and even complexions

of orange orbs presented as pumpkins.

Topped with a stump of a stem,

a natural lattice for its pigtail vine,

a 45-degree angled leaf leans toward heaven,

its teleological nod.

Not one knows every pumpkin

has its ugly side

where it sat without sun

so that the rest of it

could grow.

Pumpkins aren’t so far from people.

Some of us sit among the pigs.

We wear patched pants,

our ugly sides to the earth.

"Why I Say Autumn" (October 1)

Each day in October, I will be writing a poem on the subjects related to all-things-autumn. Daina has already given me the list of leaves, Halloween decorations, House of Hades (a fantastic Percy Jackson book that's coming out in seven days--but who's counting? My daughter, that's who!), costumes, and trick-or-treating with friends and family. Daina is a self-replenishing bucket of ideas, so I will consult her each day for my writing "assignment." 

Speaking of assignments, who doesn't love a good fall writing prompt--especially those of my writerly friends who are practically freebasing pumpkin spice since it dipped below eighty degrees here in Florida? 

Write with me! Post with me! Let's get our fall on!

Why I Say Autumn

When I say fall,the word semester followswith white rosters lined with spaces for lettersof names I do not know.

Fall comes to close the summer,marking my days donewith its bright red pen,punctuating my pages with percentage signs,which indicate how likely I amto understand what I did wrongand how likely I am to care.

Where autumn puts pumpkins,
fall fills halls with students
who fill the halls in return with unripe words 
like syllabus and registrar
that stick like tahini to their teeth.

Some cannot remember my name,
despite hard efforts.
Others make none.


Too many fall days smell of cold coffee
forgotten in microwaves.
They sound like book sales reps
and emails from IT experts with big words
I don’t want to learn to say.


Fall is a fluorescent flicker,
a ticket under a wiper for a sundried staff sticker.
Every day in October ends up
its own annual cliché.


Autumn gives me a pass on all of fall.
It is rice-paper leaves dried by air
that hits my ears like an Avett Brothers’ song.


I don’t even want to talk about it.


It’s better than any of my poems
will ever be.