North 38th Parallel, Haibun
I make my circuit — a walk under wind-stripped oaks and maples. Then, over the little path, it twists through thickets of bare trees and hummocks once profuse with bloom. See, the dry creek is covered with a tarp. Leaves are ankle deep already.
After dinner I watch a waning sun light shadows that disappear into dark corners. I leave the porch for cheery fireside chair, my radio tuned to the “weekend”; music, hot tea, and day old zucchini bread.
the evening fox —
of the hedgerow world