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Cucumber Season
We're at the place again where 
cucumber season has floated away 
into the time of picking pumpkins 
and raking back leaves. The vines 
that have fed us wilt to sludge, 
waiting to feed the new season. 

Our oldest comes to see us, here in our 
place because for her it is still home, 
Her new home being far away. 
Enough miles to keep safe 
from drop-in visits. 

And so we gather at the table 
on the back porch. We admire the 
fading light of summer shifting into fall.
Admire the birds that have 
nested, parented, and are moving on.
The sunset coming earlier in the day.
 
We sip coffee or water. 
Out comes the cake - store bought, 
but from a good store 
- family owned, close by, small.
We don't light candles - 
These days there'd be too many of them 
for one small cake.
We don't sing.
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