skimmer

October, a hurried archivist, great disperser,

all froth and field trips,

kickstarting this reverse paint-by-numbers

until everything is outline only,

and scratchy as the hem of a Halloween costume.

The pool skimmer is full -

wolf spiders walk on water,

weighing the rustling odds.

Much is motionless upon rescue,

devoured, stiff, or windswept,

at the mercy of sooner dusk.

October, a kiss at the doorframe,

a cut-up candy-sick mouth that speaks

in the reeling discourse of childhood sleepovers,

daring to overlap the fearful and the forgiving.