all I wanted
was to cover
my stains
and now I’m painting my whole house
red
help me
my closest friends
are 200 miles away

I can’t write this poem right now
not like this

I am in the trees
they are still mostly green
but leaves fall when the wind blows
I am not getting colder
I just have a lot going on right now
and I’m trying to shed
some of this fall fabric
and let my forest floor
weave it into a carpet
but you can’t pull all the dead leaves off
it’s better to just let them drop

in the heart of winter
there will still be
stragglers
holding on through autumn winds
and January snows
to crumble in the spring
my lips touch the soft
clean soles of your feet
and my fears dissolve
like fog in the morning

I can’t write this poem right now
no
not like this