halloween, portland ave.

the living grey squirrel
stops on portland ave
at a lump of grey smeared
on the middle lane

her tail shakes three or four times
rapidly, like a kind of warning

kids
dressed as kinds
of animal are coming out
of the masks of houses

some October
a long time ago
we felt
able
to make this game of
the winterlong fear of starving

the squirrel crosses Portland
raises more burial mounds of nuts.
I have never heard
any mourning in its chatter.