Whining and dining

I have a pet mosquito,

who comes each night to feed.

I'll fetch a rolled up newspaper,

to teach him* how to read.

* yes, I know.

Fall Again

What is this new thing: rain?

Saturday's puddles, perfect planes of sharp refraction;

Baked mud trapped under airless crystal.

Now summer is stored:

The ponies' fat, the squirrelled seeds; berries shout 'come hither',

Insect larvae burrow and dive, ready for winter's sloth.

Autumn is getting on her glad-rags.