Snowfall spinning up the coast, the maples
this fall never yellowed, never glowed red,
and still have not let go their load, dull husks
of summer still clinging to half their limbs.
They say animals know when it is time
to die, will find a place for the passing,
but no one now can say where we will find
such mercy, its tracks too sparse to follow.
–
Brian Simoneau is the author of the poetry collections No Small Comfort (Black Lawrence Press, 2021) and River Bound (C&R Press, 2014). His poems have appeared in Boston Review, Cincinnati Review, Colorado Review, The Georgia Review, Iowa Review, Salamander, Waxwing, and other journals. Originally from Lowell, Massachusetts, he lives near Boston with his family.