October Again

A blurred, backlit image of mallard ducks taking flight.Bark peels off the maples. Leaves wither and die, everyone says how beautiful. Sedum turning a muddy green, like rotten asparagus. Nights, the man at the end of the court wanders by, his gun tucked into his waistband. Moonlight nests in his hair, bounces off his angry face. Since you left, spiders have colonized the pantry, racing each other for fun. The bedroom window leaks, a muffled plunk-plunk-plunk. When I try to imagine where you are, it always involves flight: Wings loosening. The moment when the mallard shows its silvery throat, gliding under clouds before the first shot is fired.

Beth Sherman received an MFA in creative writing from Queens College, where she teached in the English department. Her fiction has been published in The Portland Review, KYSO, Black Fox Literary Magazine, Sandy River Review, Blue Lyra Review, Gloom Cupboard, Panoplyzine, Delmarva Review, 3Elements Review, Sinkhole, Rappahannock Review, Compose Journal, and Sou’wester. She was also nominated for a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net and has written five mystery novels.

Photo Credit: Tom Koerner for USFWS

4 Responses to “October Again”

  1. A fantastic text that make see ,smell and finally hear !

  2. Janko says:

    –where she teached?” — is not the verb ‘teach’ irregular. The past tense is supposed to be ‘taught’.
    English is my second language, and I PAY attention.
    -Janko

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *