Not the same today
     on the way to the river
          white chrysanthemums

We are old
     and love is still possible
          autumn rain

In the bright mirror
     of the cold Piscataqua
          the start of autumn

All Souls’ Day --
     no haze on the river
          just wrinkles of light

On the other side
     of the river and so near
          colors of autumn

How red how yellow
     the buoys in the Piscataqua
          winter glare

Black wavelets
     in endless broken patterns
          winter light

Thick fog
     instead of the third tugboat
          long sound from the sea

Just a pogy
     down in again with a splash
          cold sunlight

Hidden in fog
     the river beyond the rail
          where sparrows chat

---

 
by Madeleine Findlay

next to the old barn
a maple among pines
partly red

more beautiful
than when they were foliage
leaves on the ground

pumpkins slick with rain
scattered across the muddy field
shine brightly

winter afternoon –
two merchants on hands and knees
pore over a rug