Ernesto Trejo

Autumn's End

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It begins when the TV mentions the name of my
street,
saying in passing that the woman next door has
died.
Yes, the one whose name I never knew, the name
that even now escapes me. I will watch
the leaves from her ash trees pile up all winter.

Now deer start to come down from the high coun
try
to a place between snow and this valley lost in
fog.
And my shaggy dog scuttles between rooms.

Then there's the ants. When winter stumbles on
them
they go under into their caves, tunnels,
and immense corridors.
And what happened to mosquitoes? Where have
they gone
with all the blood collected?

Now there's a long peace in corners and base
ments
where we won't dare to step in,
black widows nest there with their young.
Outside my window a few leaves hang on.
Doubting so many things I wait for winter.
Watergrass is sprouting everywhere, even on the
ground
where the nameless woman hides from winter.

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