how sad,
assorted June
swept by old hack July
done under quite well by August
brute Fall.
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how sad,
assorted June
swept by old hack July
done under quite well by August
brute Fall.
Brute Fall,
colorful suit
of tawny hues, hidden
in the hawthorn and juniper
your blues
your blues
underlie the
reds that pepper me, and
together we combine into
purple
purple
blood under skin
you gather me in your
rich dark intent, swirl me like wine,
savor
savour
this swirling taste,
let it build under your
tongue and take you to far-distant
places
places
to go, people
to see, blackbird singing
in the old oak tree; remember
me, love
me, love?
let me laugh please.
because when i do love,
i know i will receive it back,
broken.
broken
by sleeplessness
I sort through the debris
of attempted dreams, for this short
poem
poem
in shards, shattered,
the words fell apart, spilt,
unhinged by punctuation or
grammar
grammar
evil disguised
as a sweet old lady
underneath the sugar and spice
a wolf
a wolf
shivering, grey,
nose pointed to the snow,
gauging the coming storm, knowing
its fury.
its fury
wrapped around calm,
hurricane, a blind dog
sniffing over the warm ocean
howling
howling
fills the empty
northern prairie, inserts
itself in the crevices of
silence
silence
lurks all around
everybody is quiet
am i in a cemetery
or hell!
or Hell?
instead of love?
it sounds like a good deal
'cause when i love, i might as well
be there.