pink sky as the sun rises
shows her feminine side for a change
last night, after she set
jet streams high above were still lit in that hue
as the rest of us fell under darkness
pulling jackets close
beginning to scurry indoors
leaving behind the squirrels
who are eating out the faces of the pumpkins
left on stoops two weeks later
and the homeless who tug inadequate collars
around cotton shirts
begin to stomp their feet nervously
wonder where they will land tonight
no smartphone to tell them how cold it will get
but the clear early night promises
no cloud cover to trap any heat in
late fall—it might get windy