I think I keep my mind Octobered:
I smile seeing an orange,
a burnt red, that deepening flood.
It's an early September I want now:
the beginnings of darkness;
the chattering of birds, not teeth just yet.
They say here in Valdvia,
the earthquake and resulting tsunami
sunk homes into the river.
And there they stay, still intact
because of the alerce they're made of.
Heat here is never bad -- the wind
sinks you into an autumn mind.
And what's an autumn without sinking?
What's a summer without underwater dreams?