october's breath has stripped the nap

of summer's velvet nights

i sit wellwrapped in chilly dark

serenaded by the song of crickets dying

the faintest echo of what was

a choir thousands strong

the supple green of maples

bronzed and fallen to the earth

complains in rusty whispers as i

a thoughtless madonna crush them

making pixelated patterns i cannot see

on this inkblack moonless night

all the while knowing but not wanting to

this is the fate of everything alive

the silent spiky wheel gives no warning

as it rolls relentless but unprejudiced

across a landscape invisible

to the keenest most discerning eye

metanoia

alone in the fading afternoon

i sit with indecorous thoughts

born of desire resurrected by

the bite of bourbon too early

and flesh too long neglected

it’s good no conversation is required 

every word fluttering on my tongue 

is unsuitable for public consumption

your flesh a dish best tasted at a table 

for one

washed in the unexpectedly vigorous

sunlight of late autumn i undress

and read you in the curves of my body

flowers of flame scrawled in the passionate

restraint of a man too long alone

my fingers trace the contours of desire

fault lines permanently tattooed in the

invisible ink of the unfulfilled

as every nerve hums a hymn to the world

we created from the loam of our souls

now wrapped in nothing but memories

i dance a partnerless pavane into a future

i must create from the ashes of that world

and the unquenchable shimmer of hope

burning beyond the reach of despair

bitter honey