The first hurricane
hit late this year.
The last week in October.
Rain filled the marshes.
The seagrass poked
through the high water
a day before Halloween.
It’s too late for me to look
at the stars strung like lights
in the trees east of the river
to remind me
to listen to the weatherman
when summer heat vanishes
when the water rises
over the road
and my gambler’s faith
in luck runs bone dry.
