as we move through the duskdark

how we walk single file
on the road edge when a car approaches
as we move through the duskdark
along the curving gravel hills
at the top of the hill
we stop/stand
for at least ten minutes
if not fifteen
just to look/to listen into the woods
beyond the semi roaring along
and through the persistent dog barks
calling to each other
from ridge to ridge
skillet cornbread still warm with butter
melting on top
chili steaming in the pot
and a salad featuring some of the garden’s last tomatoes
hanging on this whole time
ripening wrapped in newspaper
and then right there on the kitchen table
we feast

drips off rooftops and other edges,
the first snow that stuck now melting
but not so fast that the white on the ground
and in the fields
completely disappears