Soften (October)

October softens as the heat goes under the horizon. The night air is cool. Clouds a soft mauve rest in the south. There are stars where the tips of the trees end. Native iris seeds, planted at noonday, soften now amidst osmocote bubbles and compost mash, in pots outside under the lamplit windows. New herbs adjust to watering-can deluge. Separated tiger orchids settle. The music of Esbjörn Svensson can be traced from a distant room. I peg up washing at eight-thirty, in soft dark, certain there’s another warm one tomorrow. Cat Osidian softens the grass where he follows his beat.