Tidings of the season

A sestina from Sam Thielman

A misty moon at night, cold and silvery, through golden-lit branches
Image courtesy of the author

Today: Sam Thielman, a reporter, critic, essayist, and editor, and graphic novel columnist for the New York Times.


Issue No. 201

Late Fall
Sam Thielman


Late Fall

by Sam Thielman

Before Halloween, the sky is filled with bodies
After a long rain and a brutal flood.
Sometimes there are even cars in the trees.
People look up, trying not to recognize anyone
Dead behind the wheel after the rainfall,
Hoping to see only autumn leaves.

Elsewhere, a man is clearing away leaves,
Children pretend to have mutilated bodies,
And it's so hot. Maybe there will be rainfall
After the trick-or-treaters. They flood
Down the avenue, asking anyone
for treats, new buds on uncertain trees.

After the deluge, the trees
Still clench root-fists below turf and leaves.
The leaves decay and reek. When anyone
claims to help, it's just food and clothes. Not bodies
with chainsaws to shift the flotsam of the flood-
tide. Bring us water, and no more rainfall.

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