Autumn’s Bounty Abounds

The crickets were cold
but we weren’t, by the fire,
hands tucked between legs,
biting hard on caramel apples.

I forgot to be anxious; forgot
to be crazy like the Dog who
kills possums for fun, or for duty,
or for instinct’s sake.

Under plaid flannel blankets, under
orange and yellow trees,
under the stars, we laughed and played
like children chasing fun.

Bellies filled with roasted hotdogs
and pumpkin bars,
hot apple cider and friendship,
Autumn’s bounty abounds.