On Hallowe’en night
 
I think of my dead brother:
 
trickster nonpareil.

 
 
 

October winds down—
 
in Southern California
 
morning glories bloom.

 
 
 

Autumn evening chill—
 
a mug of steaming chocolate
 
fixes all my ills.

 
 
 

My father’s old shirt—
 
the fragrance of autumn mist
 
lingers on the sleeves.

 
 
 

Chilly autumn days—
 
every yellow butterfly
 
has fled my garden.

 
 
 

October sorrow—
 
watching the hunter’s moon slip
 
back into darkness

 
 
 

California drought—
 
on an autumn afternoon
 
we sing songs for rain.

 
 
 

Autumn contentment—
 
we share tea and oranges,
 
garnished with small talk.

 
 
 

A path before me
 
lights up with autumn color—
 
see, I skip for joy!

 
 
 

Autumn misfortune—
 
my phone’s battery falters;
 
your voice fades away.