Sunday, September 6, 2015

Gray Autumn


Autumns cloak crunches underfoot
Like paper cranes folded in
The feverish propulsion of summer.

You tell me to take my shoes off
So they can be rubbed—the knots
Tied in a ceaseless trudge

In shitty clogs on damp wood floors
I walked to you—
Rain dripping off my brow,

Golden crisps blowing in from outside--
And you told me its okay to rest now.
And that even trees get tired.

They’ve shed layers to reveal quiet bones.
And although grayness has taken hold,
You tell me to have faith—

That there’s life in those veins
A capacity for phototropism
Even winter can’t stamp out.

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