Keeping our eyes focused upon

trees that have turned on 
their other street-signal colors,
that have passed green for go,
gone deep
into slow, caution,

stop. Noting

that it’s not far now
to no color at all on those limbs,
save for here and there
an odd shot of rust 
that will not fall. Noting

that it’s cooling at night, though
not quite enough for the furnace;
thermostats are yet untouched, although
the batteries
have been checked.

We’re bracing for car care,
yard care, window sealing,
pulling out layers of clothes
and warner bed linens…now and then

watching the faces of those
who panhandle 
on nearby streets,
mouths tight
upon cheap cigarettes
cupped in still bare,
sun brown hands;

blessing them now and then
with thin coins and thinner bills
handed out the car window
before driving away.

This is how we winter,
how we warm ourselves.