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

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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).