October 2019 – Page 3

months of sundays gone-
I still just can’t get used to
sleeping without you
–
autumn winds-
the restless swirl
of fallen leaves

afternoon sunlight-
an old man and his grandson
asleep on the floor
–
sunday mornings-
step stool by the sink
shaving together

the full solstice moon
begs forgiveness of the sun
for stealing her light
–
from dust to dust-
the fullness of time
forgives no one

pale silver moonlight
captured in the broken glass
strewn across the street
–
autum eve-
crickets silenced
by shattering glass

peeling back the dark
exposing the ugly truth
to the light of day
–
low tide-
broken shells
on the sand

my bedside vigil-
each moment slipping away
taking you with them
–
machines hum-
outside your window
a starless night

an overnight frost-
reluctant to let go of
these summer evenings
–
a new day born-
on the pumpkins
a touch ol frost

hanging on a strap-
the city moves beneath me
though I’m standing still
–
railway sidings-
rusting beasts
long since dead

vampires do exist-
in fact I’m sure one lives in
this overstuffed couch
–
the forest floor-
twigs and sticks snap
underfoot

grey dying embers-
on rising smoke the campfire
draws its final breath
–
evening dew-
cooling ashes and
echoes of laughter