Paper Wings

A pumpkin garland is strung on the wall

above my makeshift bed

In my telephone booth of a closet

hangers shrug under fleece-lined armor

The trees outside rain down their colors

on all my crumpled leaf days

Calendar pages pile

in a hand-me-down metal drawer

I didn’t imagine October in this room,

the chill meeting me as I am

Often, I am still a sad blowing pine needle

with Charlie Brown in my pocket

But a few golden leaves have stumbled

into this telephone booth with me

And suddenly

there is an abundance of space

-A.J