dirt on the welcome mat

Tag Archives: fall

we found our
bicycle helmets-
cracked pastel plastic
spider-webbed
and too small

the frayed black straps pulled my hair
the buckle pinched your fingertips

but your thick scar
and my skipping heart
kept our heads hard

we were careful
but I’m still separating
pavement from skin


Hear the little fires pop
And sizzle on pale autumn skin?
Marshmallow roasts and hay rides
Bump down sweatered arms
As scary stories begin
To wind-whisper shivers into sweat
And bring breath to a boil.
Faces glisten
Apple-bobbing wet
As scarecrow hands and feet
Recoil- then reach for the breeze
Far from patched overalls,
The thick uncomfortable layers,
That fickle fashion of fall.