It's the lonely nights that pry..
It's the lonely nights that lurk..
In the corridors all around.
During these nights I have visions..
You and I soaring
You and I writing...
Two masterpieces combined
Into a story that has never been told
A story of two lonely hearts...
Connected at the mind




-Jennifer DeAngelo
Copyrighted 2016

Some  places  call  it
In  the  Autumn.

Some  places  call  it
in  the  Fall.

In  Cumbria  UK  we  say
in  the  Back  End.

Meaning  the  Back  End
of  the  year.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

i.

the grass in the meadows
has grown high,
it melts like an emerald
sea under the sun.

ii.

summer stretches
robotic and angular
everything larger than life
sunshine and the childish rains
pouring stormy drops
on the window.

iii.

the sky is perfectly white
the cloud is an unbroken
line, no dots or dashs,
no hyphens or metaphors.

iv.

i dress in the morning and
undress at night let the
pools of the night tether me
to the sky.