BACK YARD IN FALL

This is my backyard. I store things in this shed. I need to cut the lawn. Sometimes I stare and watch it turn red. Amanda and I share tea. We make bread together. I pick a purple flower for her. She stops and looks at it a moment. Her green eyes shine. They sparkle. A hint of red dots her face in patches. The suns lights the side of her face orange. We sit on the porch and I hear the slates of the wood bend and creak. The chipped paint tingles the soles of my feet.

I'm lost under the sugar maple. My brains beat out nothing. Listen to it shissh. I trace the path of one yellow leaves tipped towards the sun. The wind blows across the porch and loosens it. It softly arches in the blue. Sometimes floating up, sometimes curving

sidways, taking its time to join the others beneath our feet. It doubles back struggling to stay afloat. I see Amanda register this. Her lips part, I can see her teeth. Her pupils dilate and I know she feels nothing too.