..opened but guarded guarded his soul looks out at this aging year, turning turning towards winter, never ready to watch it die, always willing to hide back within the reeds at the waters edge where no one gets in....
.....but, another one is here here, beckoning to him, to her, laughing, marking mortality, another notch on the belt of time time time pushing pushing he opens the door and welcomes the coolness carefully as she caresses the day with her soft scent, slowly extinguishing the temperature that melted the summers hope of everything......longing for the quiet of nothing or something.......
...like some siren song seeking something more more more than he can give, he hears that call heeding pleading for one more simple moment in that aging year, like rotting fruit unpicked he turns inward, seeking solitude among the reeds, at her waters edge....and time, she waits for everyone but him..........
2 comments:
This is one gorgeous poem my friend! I love it!
Thank you SO much Carrie, especially the kick in the ass to write again.
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