pale gate
in darkness
the hanging lamp

dim hallway
alone the hanging lamp
floats

I decided that if I die like this in love with flowers, attentively watching the rain commence it’s cleansing slide down a window or outside with the cold piecing air
making my breathe a boundless cloud
–I would die full.

Autumn is a Greek sea,
A summation of wet leaves,
Gathered wicks of sunset,
A hypocaust of warm water,
That lies beneath our feet,
Incense from the Sea of Crete,
Risen to the airy suggestive.

Autumn is a word in the mind, fallen leaf-like to the mouth,
How like the orange rind, our ancient past is shriveled under pillars.

yellow sky
the winter grass
deepens

all of the world
is out of tune
and our music is still beautiful

and our beauty comes not because we are perfect
harmony is all of us
trying
and failing
and becoming beautiful

knowing we are not by ourselves
a single song
but others pitching in
and making accidents
in symphony