This afternoon the brown deer munches through
bright lilac leaves, October’s gracious
harvest of hillside hospitality;
Moon of the White Tail and the Frost Free Heart
keeps me standing at my window, keeps
me smiling at this lily-eater, whose
walking entitlement has been claiming
all that’s tender green. In sleep, I graze all
night on dreams of succulent leavings,
long glorious gulps of loose leaf blue love,
around the still green center of autumn sleep,
the blankets of rye grass golden in the sun,
little blue stem and fescue memories,
pond where minnows leap and Basho still comes. 

*the first words of each line combine to form a Basho haiku

Sandra Lindow lives in Menomonie. Wisconsin, where she teaches, writes, and edits. She has published seven poetry collections. Her most recent book of poetry is Hedge Witch’s Upgrade. More by and about Sandra.