the buzzing inside the cardboard box
that was once a winter-warm cat place
now turned bee condo

the low gold light 
(particular to fall)
plus less leaves on the trees plus wind – 
how the shine and shadow
dance onto my walls
in the morning
the thirteen turkey vultures
perched on the electrical wires (and poles and crossbars)
that hold it all up as seen from
the whitehouse woodstack
where the cats gather on their respective perches
over a crunchy breakfast
emory and i selecting one piece of candy each
from the bulk bins
he chooses a red, white and brown piece of taffy
which ends up, according to his report from the front seat of the truck i drive us home in,
tasting like cherry vanilla chocolate
and i choose a butterfinger peanut butter cup
which is mostly like a butterfinger in a sqaure shape
and i give a quarter of it to em
first the honking
and then the sight:
three geese diagonaling south
against powdery late morning sky