This entry is part 23 of 28 in the series Morning Porch Poems: Autumn 2013


Dark heap on the snow where a squirrel husked a walnut.

Scent of Pine-sol lingering in rooms not yet filled.

Half a pair of chopsticks hidden in the knife drawer.

Garden rake on a store shelf of soil cultivators.

Vent hole beneath the eaves through which the house might breathe.


In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

Series Navigation← Prayer for Wings<em>Small birds fly past,</em> →

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