October
✺
A Letter in October
by Ted Kooser
Dawn comes later and later now,
and I, who only a month ago
could sit with coffee every morning
watching the light
walk down the hill
to the edge of the pond
and place a doe there,
shyly drinking,
then see the light step out upon
the water, sowing reflections
to either side—a garden
of trees that grew
as if by magic—
now see no more than my face,
mirrored by darkness,
pale and odd,
startled by time. While I slept,
night in its thick winter jacket
bridled the doe with a twist
of wet leaves and led her away,
then brought its black horse
with harness that creaked
like a cricket, and turned
the water garden under. I woke,
and at the waiting window found
the curtains open
to my open face;
beyond me, darkness. And I,
who only wished
to keep looking out,
must now keep looking in.
✺
Poem: Planting Morning Glories in October
Poem: For the First Fog of October
Poem: Reading by Window Light, Late October
Poem: October, Remembering the Ride No One Saw