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).