Insidious, October dropped early snow
usually allotted to December
coating the mounds of dried leaves,
piled like so many books for the burning,
in the white bindings of an early winter.
In time, with the thaws
and the warmed over January precipitation,
the snow turned silver eel and slipped
between the chapped lips of the asphalt
leaving the autumnal load overripe before us.
What wonders lay
beneath the ragged pages
of those decaying fall chronicles?
As we sifted through the compost
of faded memories
abandoned to the street,
we encountered the savage
faces of pumpkin warriors,
smeared with ceremonial paint.
and twisted in their battle cries.
They smelled of wet asphalt and decaying Crayola.
Digging with our fingers,
we finally found the rake
lying in the rubber embrace of the garden hose
both hunkered down in their den
prepared to wait out the winter months
enjoying each otherís company.
Wrenching the lovers apart
we cleared the leaves
and watched the trucks
cart them away amid a fanfare
of incessant beeping
and flashing lights.
Alone, we stood in the empty street
and wondered at the weather.