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october

summer spares
the sleepy earth
carried as the spring
– was passed one day
between the noon and five
brighter my
illusion
of almost anything
I might have said
last sunday
as goodbye

made worse
for ever giving
what it took so long to say
the fields may burn away
beneath my bed
time has nothing
meant to keep –
begs us love or go
the winds
are sure to find me far
the last –
the best I know

there’s more than ache
in hurting –
more soul within the song
tho no one hears
but me –
don’t make it wrong
leaving left
to one last fate
– one more hold me near
the past is nothing
worth
the keeping
here

. . .