Deadlock darling  
if you lay down your arms
and lean into a promise made
I will wait for you
on the other side of
Badger Creek
but only for a while
only long enough to hear
a rustling of feathers
from the two crows
perched on my shoulders
one for the vows you spoke
and one for the silence that came after

And when you come closer
or if you never come at all
we will nonetheless turn our backs to
Badger Creek
and walk quietly away
swallowed by a damp november mist
rattling bones and molting leaves
Vows and Silence
gently cawing

I've been told to count my blessings as they come
***** dishes in the sink and a wish for a home
A permanent frown that says why bother
Never paint stars in the eyes of another
Ask the autumn winds about forever
The rustle in the trees reply whatever
And the way you reach for your jacket whispers never

It's as heavy as rain
this steely cold proclamation
that there's a path not taken
in the words I saved for later
The heavy gray clouds silently sinking
towards a world shrouded
in thoughts never declared
because we saved them
shivering and waiting
suspended in anticipation
for later

Black thursday
sunset mirrored in
hollow eyes
Painted in ultraviolet
the line is drawn
anywhere on this side of oblivion
on the inside of my eyelids
a spiderweb light

Black thursday
dusk drawn over a
bedridden world
Rested beneath the wavelengths
of white noise
a fragile little thing this steely place
fingers pressed against the temples
of the sleeping

I am adrift in perpetual night
A painted crown on my forehead
A signal to the skies
This is one I never claimed to own
Digging holes and throwing stones
I am adrift in perpetual night
A head full of thunderstorms
A free falling fight

She says nothing
waiting
hands on the table
luck just an inch away
from her trembling fingertips
she was never asking
and never demanding
only hoping to hold it

Thunderstorm darling
searching
for images of elation  
just barely seen
in the corner of her eyes
her vision blurred
when her head is turned
and bliss is left unrevealed

Heavy warm skies
an amplifier for
the smell of dust and waiting
Grasshoppers in the brittle grass
sing their praises to the yellowing leaves
fallen from the first shivering trees
And I sit
under the wilting climbing rose bush
catch glimpses of a quiet conversation
held by strangers on the other side of the hedge
just like fall is patiently whispering to me
from somewhere on the other side of september
the sun still warm but just a thin veil
for the cold winds nestling in my hair
these are the last silent sighs
of the dying dog days
And I become
unrelentingly aware
that all of my beginnings
started with the ending of this season