in autumn

in autum­nyel­low moon become­sam­ber mum becomesques­tion of bridges that go nowhere becomess­mell of paper, hot out of the print­er becomes some­thing gold­en that was alive just yes­ter­day­but today smells new­ly, rich­ly dead. Originally pub­lished in Door is a Jar (Spring 2019.)Published on The Laundry Line, Sept 16, 2025.