leaves fall
dance and pirouette
through pale late fall skies
land on the brown lawn
quiver and die.
I drink coffee
laced with good bourbon
on the front porch
I take a sip
It’s warm in my hands
my stomach
my mouth
kids at the bus stop
talking, laughing
showing off
my tremors are mild
most mornings
I put my mug down
slip my hands
in my coat pockets
watch the kids file on the school bus
inside,
the phone starts
to ring
