Our first fall rain,
I watch the drops on the faded deck,
hear them on the side of the house.
The cat stares out, as nonplussed
as he always is about rain.
I consider my schedule,
what to re-arrange.
In California we stay in when it rains.
Maybe it’s just me, the freeways
a hazard,
I like to be home and make soup.
Late November, finally it’s time
to put the sleeveless shirts away,
sandals back in a box.
It’s a good day to vacuum
the closet floor,
something I’ve been putting off,
to try on the clothes I know
have gotten too tight.