Enough

Little brown sparrow,

will you find enough to eat

now that autumn’s come?

Frost

Little brown sparrow,

will you find enough to eat

now that frost has come?

First chill of autumn—

down a narrow alleyway

a stray leaf skitters.

On a cobbled street

an old man leaves his footprints

lodged between the stones.

First chill of autumn—

an old woman puts on gloves

to take out the trash.

First chill of autumn—

one leaf on the maple tree

is tinged with scarlet.

First day of autumn—

the fly on my windowsill

dodges the swatter.

Last day of summer—

at the garden’s farthest edge

one weed starts to droop.

Summer afternoon—

with a stone for a pillow

the gardener naps.

Summer afternoon—

a housefly circles and lands

on the bald man’s head.