Leaping For Home

Familiar chill of autumn sun
cool winds stir early fallers
at our feet and drift the wood smoke
down from faded blue

chill night comes early now
star shine and cold moon
whispers of frost
collars up and hand in hand
we walk the tide-swept sand

he wonders if fish know it's fall
and death waits as we skip
the flattest stones
"well, salmon leap for home," I say,
"driven, desperate for something"
and we laugh about my cold-red nose

later there's hot chocolate
in Styrofoam-cuppinng hands
side by side on the sand
like we used to back then.