In puddles of fallen leaves

of the rainy Halloween woods

reflections of ghostly trees

More rain, lots of rain, and Charlie and I don’t mind, but Suzi turns back and stays home. I like that she knows what she needs. We walk back and open the door for her and head off just a little bit lonelier, but still. Before walking, I have written and sent my Halloween writing prompt to my Aim for Astonishing subscribers. Despite the rain, it’s deliciously warm and breezy by the swamp where the autumn leaves are blowing and sinking, sinking. All day, I focus on many different aspects of my writing life and the writing lives of all the interesting brave and creative writers I work with. A consult with a unique online writing platform we may adopt for the IWWG. A consult with a writer who wants to join one of my writing groups. A consult with a writer who wants to work with me on her fiction project. And, my own poems, a decision. Which poem will I bring for a workshop I am going to in the morning. I expected to bring the tender new one, but I have not had a chance to work on it, quietly. I am undecided: choosing between two new ones, written in New Mexico. Neither have been workshopped yet. I tweak them both and decide to decide in the morning. In the wet woods. Perhaps standing under the gold and orange canopy of trees that is coming apart I will listen and I will know.