magnolia’s cream-mottled cheek marking yet another bygone era plunked into the abyss as sorrow burrows into us, roots that become
our prisons / our refuge, the delirious journey into what we've come to recognize as our shadow selves' last fragments of a fallen season
that last slanted sunset reflected off the lake hinting with its brilliance at what we simply could not admit to ourselves. The expanding distance between us we hide in and seek thereafter
I thank thee for the sun It brightens up the darkest day I thank thee for the rain It feeds trees plants and flowers in our terrain I’m grateful for it all The wind may call We have it all in our summer
But in the winter I thank thee for the snow Because you know I love it so
An Autumn breeze is so nice When the golden leaves just show And when they drop A carpet of golden leaves will grow
But spring is beautiful When the little lambs are born Bouncing in the fields Together but never fore-lawn
I’m always tired I need to sleep Except when I have a monster drink I’m hyper hyper Wide awake And when that tasty melon flavoured monster drink wares off I’m always tired I need to sleep!
Not two decades yet, since the sun spat me into its glare, and already my head betrays me— six black locks, once fierce, gone, gone gray, gray as ash, gray as a lie, gray as the sigh of a self I can’t defy.