The rain had stayed in the grass,
and as I walked my shoes got sodden

Then, I didn’t feel the chill weight
as each wet step took me towards you,
the cold, dead-leaf breeze
still thrilling

A coal glow of anticipation,
the drug-draw of your jumpered arms,
endless cups of tea in the earlying dark
watching the frost’s slow creep

Perhaps I had lived,
Just as petals
Of a flower
In autumn.

If you had smiled to me
I would have known
I was just a random rainy season in the South.
Coming and leaving out of the blue
drizzles tapping gently on the ground.
You described the gray day as poetic
and still was in favor of the passion of clear, blue sky
white cloud with or without.

I was a random rainy season in the South
caught you off guard when you were leaning on the windowsill.
Reversed the day and night to compose a new song
one that would be catchy yet difficult to remember,
that would initiate you to show me the tricks to dance
when I didn't tell you there were complicated lyrics
secretly put under the simple rhythm.

The excitement of summer would never be negated
as you put on the sneakers and lit up a cigarette.
The numbers on the calendar leaped forward
Between us another step closer
but the music had been switched.
Yours was white as usual
but mine had lost.

When the next fall comes we will both change.
It will take another time for you to show me around.
Behind the tinted glass and small roses newly settled under the curtain
I was recognized as a rainy season in the South.
Everything else stays the same
but I just hope you can find out
there actually was a regularity
in those days when I came by.
when the leaves were green, the coffee you ordered would be iced
when we met up, there was no longer a stain on the sky.

Today, I walked
along a river girded by concrete
as fall's cold hand caressed the sage nearby

Today, I walked
among hundreds of shades of sepia, brown, vermillion
as I heard my footfalls distinctly, with no green, dewy foliage
to soften my heavy steps

Today, I walked
among the surrendering of Naure
to  fall's cold hand, which caressed the sage nearby

What parts of me are dry
What parts of me are brown, with no verve
What can soften my heavy footfalls

Today, I walked

Lances of evening sun run through trails
Left spearheads of gold behind water rails.
The dene smell that came from a hawthorn on
The turn, had lost all its putrid scents
Of spring. Blown in the night, echoed
By the corpses of snowberries, marble
Spoils of fungus adorned the rorqual’s throat
Of ridged bark on the trunk of a fallen
Tree. Two blackbirds in a drunken squabble
Over fermented windfalls, were just missed
By a pushchair where a low flying toddler
Extemporised words into birdlike cries.
An umbrella was caught up and fluttered
To dry its wet wings like a cormorant;
As mopheads in the shrubbery tumbled
From sky hydrangea to rhubarb crumble.

light shines through
moving leaves
like rays
of grated cheese

the days grow shorter
the nights bring the need for these
artificial lights

She is light weeping shadows
depth you cannot follow
velvet rain on summer nights
lips exhaling sweetest flight

‘Neath the solid waves of ribs
She is storm my inkwell stirring
Mere whirl of finger tips
Erupting in a dance of fury

As we move as one
Fears fade behind
shed like skin of old
in gold and ruby fall

   * * *

Диханието на Октомврия

Тя е светлина плачеща сенки
Дълбина недостижима
Дъжд от кадифе във летни нощи
Устни с дъх на сладък полет

На ребрата изпод твърдите вълни
Буря Тя е в моята мастилница
Щом леко само пръсти потопи
Ще изригне танц най-див

Движим се ведно
А страховете вяхнат
Като стара кожа падат
В есен от рубин и злато