Geese
Full of impatience and sound,
Glide to the evening pond
Just south my house, or
From waters chill to littered fields,
Strident, jar their morning way
Kernels to find in husk-less harvest leavings
Before the imminence of snow.

Trees
My ash leaves safely bagged,
Lawns clean and waiting, bare,
Neighbor in his annual piety
Apologizes for the late leaves
His maples hold, then drop
On new falling snow...
As if a man can understand
Or know what Nature knows.
Even so, I smile:
His apology always the same,
Minnesota nice,
Affable...and lame.

House
Stands chilling in Autumnal wind;
Furnace finds its pace,
Preserving this small portion
Of the human race.
My wife, layered in fleecy white,
Sips coffee by her window...
Small joys in gray morning light.
I drink the vision of my love,
Watching first flakes drifting slow...
As I reflect how all good things must go.