All stays quiet around this room
save for the clanking of an architect
below, carving out a plate for noodles.

The sun sets now,
our day finishing up
after this sullen Sunday
wraps up it's show.

On our street outside today
the hiss of large brakes,
a grind of a chipper
cutting into our damp October forest
knock at each fading minute of the rest of the day.

The dry heat of summer leaves out the back.
Gone for the year.
Wild fires rest.
We gather wood again,
bringing the flames inside at night,
drying out October's rain.