from Michaelmas Day
When the watery September sun
blanches the ruddy fields of the North Country,
the ragbone man makes his rounds at daybreak
as a woman in a window eating grapes
from a glass bowl runs out with a bag of old
frocks. Her house is as quiet as goldfish,
and she poses like a reclining nude on the floor,
except with her cardigan over her nightgown,
to read a book on the nesting habits of puffins. . . .
–excerpt from “Michaelmas Day” in To Sip Darjeeling at Dawn by Donna Pucciani (Virtual Artists Collective 2011. First published in International Poetry Review.