keeping together through poetry
not running, but walking, home
the Fall is not so much as a leap
as a gentle floating from Summer
the Heat searing shut wounds
from the bitter chill of
Winter's thrusts,
broken trusts,
tucked guts,
now spreading out in gusts
of feeling in the wind,
the chill of Winter
returning, in tickles
down my spine, my sides,
curling, I twist, and hide.

half a cup of coffee this morning
better than nothing
getting a ride this morning
worse than walking
faster than walking
saving some time
killing the planet
exercise today
the couch won't be too lonely
the internet has many friends
exercise today
your patience
as you speed through the day
exercise your mind
keep talking away

your body is an arcade
tokens cost emotion
                      energy
                        time
sorry baby,
I can't afford to play your games

They have steadily been building up
Gathering-
Strengthening in numbers.
Each buzz growing louder
Creating a deafening hum.
All of my thoughts are drowned out by the hum.
Save for you.
You are the hum.

I am the tree.
I am the leaves that swing from the branches.
I am the flowers the burst forth
From tiny buds in the spring.
You are the bees.
You are the bees that hum in the tree.
Covering every inch of green that grows
Slowly taking my life.

Like a super swarm of bees
You came to me.
You learned my limbs
As the bee learns branches.
You pollinated the tiny buds
To make them grow.
Tender.
Caring.
With love.
What an exquisite duo the tree and bee.

But now you take
All that I afford
All that I have left.
The droning never stops in my mind.
It is all consuming.
A dark sanity swallowing fog.

The buzz has changed of late.
No longer a loving hum
But a greedy one.
You **** from me my very air
And I can't breathe.
You yield from my branches
All that you once loved.
You take my nectar
And leave me stripped.
Depleted.
Naked.
Alone.

You have taken my sweet nectar.
You have stolen my sweet nature.
Left me bitter
And blue.

When summer comes to an end
And the bees slowly leave the tree
Behind
The memories will begin to fade.
The humming will grow silent.
And the burning
Reds and oranges of my pain
Will seep into my leaves.
And each will fall.
They will call it autumn.

The buzzing will stop.
Each bee compelled toward
New plenty.
You will have flown away.
And I will stand.
Trunk
And limbs.
To suffer through winter
Until the day the bees
Return to my weary
Branches.
Return to my weary branches
And love me.