No river bed rock ever
Kisses the same water
Twice.
Autumn opens her arms
To September, and I close
My window for the first
Time since May.
I have had better
Summers. Love left behind
In a deluge of tears and regret.
Doctors sharing bad news
With honest concern;
Waves upon sand castles,
Moments; memories, then
Nothing.
I rest beneath the
Cold stream, perhaps
Allowing new waters
To feel my face in time.
For now, the rain strokes
Nothing but the glass
Of a window shut
To the chill of a dying
Summer.