12.
i dream of rising waters after the storm
eyes open. the Appalachians sprout the season
wash colors down the valleys to the river
away
i dream of rising waters
13.
October is September scrubbed clean
in heavy rains
the wind coursed us here
to a cityscape glistening in bright decay
born out of fog someone reads as desperate
Category Archives: Autumn
this grafting of the new age
anticipation sown in a man’s hip
takes root stretches out up down
this grafting of the new age
onto tired wood
while watching Fall leaves
pile up stripping bare tree limbs
the picture of a new season
the present tense of halloween along moving waters
a chill came suddenly in a series of rains and one day it was just Fall
and it was all we would get here at the edge of things.
do not distress over my lack of costume.
the river has transfigured me into a fire troll.
this disguise is best for the benefit of most,
loping with my limp, carrying this particular darkness
in my wallet like a forgotten condom.