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| Tumult the thaw lifted up to meet the ice but Night skittered in, her black skirts cracked and clinking, her voice as familiar as your mother's - "don't come home, stay out, stay out in the tumult, there is no one waiting for you." and you did, and you are lost. someone saw your grey outline near the sea, avoiding the lights. |
| Go Autumn has laid her leafy gloves on the mantle. If you are outside without a hearth, trying to hail a cab or watching the chimney smoke's curl - or playing a video game with your last basket of quarters - late is the hour to find your love. Go out and look for her - you know where she's likely to be. Look under rocks in the sun. Look in hot air balloons. Speak to the One who lives in the sleeping bag under the steps. Make some chili in the back kitchen. Dip you arm deep in Moon River and pull it out, shining, triumphant. Get out of your comfort. Go. Ask her now, before that first silent leaf locks into place over the land, softly encasing you into a last slumber. Now go. |
