the serviceberry leaves are red.
the oaks are dropping acorns.
the bigtooth maple leaves are sugary and falling.
the male tarantulas are wandering.
today, i found a dead bumblebee clinging to a rabbitbrush stem.
everyday with the garden will be missed.
Por donde fuimos, islas o puentes o banderas,
violines del fugaz otoño acribillado,
repitió la alegría los labios de la copa,
el dolor nos detuvo con su lección de llanto.
Soneto XXVIII, Neruda.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
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