Away in Boston, Riding the Green Line

By Aaron Caycedo-Kimura


I’m not home        to mow the grass        the weeds


last impositions        of a Connecticut summer


and won’t be there        before the first frost


to drag the potted fig tree        soil heavy with rain


into the garage        no raking leaves from the white


and red oaks        hickories        dogwoods        or if


there’s an early snow        shoveling the long drive


salting the walkway        now she’ll gather


kindling by herself        open the flue        build


the fires        and at dusk        watch the wild


turkeys flap        squawk        one by one


to roost        in the safety        of our backyard branches

Aaron Caycedo-Kimura is a poet and visual artist. His poetry appears or is forthcoming in Beloit Poetry Journal, Poet Lore, DMQ Review, Tule Review, THINK Journal, Louisiana Literature, and Naugatuck River Review. He is also the author and illustrator of Text, Don’t Call: An Illustrated Guide to the Introverted Life (TarcherPerigee).