Another song for the Autumn...      
      A ditty for the pretty things that couldn't stay
Seems ******* silly not to smoke 'em all while ya got 'em.
                    Gotta find fine shoes
                    when you choose the run-away

Another song for the Autumn...
       A ballad for the beauty that I couldn't frame.
Seems pretty stupid not to **** it all; what's not rotten.

               But the world's grown tired of singing
               And my throat's been beginning to get
                                        real sore.
               Shot our shots in the dark with some
                                          feeling.
             ­   Felt sure that we missed,
                but we don't know what we hit
                A million pieces, unseen, and bare feet
                                        on the hard, cold floor

Been pretty quiet all Winter.
      It's blizzard after blizzard, hugged by static months.
Feels kinda funny keeping warm while all nature's freezing
                    Chatter teeth 'til they crack—
                    cracking bad jokes to no one
                        'til the sky stops teasing
                                                                ­  me.

Been pretty quiet this Winter.
         Been sliding over sidewalks, slugging static shots.
Feels sorta futile not to kiss it all long forgotten

               But this throat's grown tired of singing
               And the world's been beginning to go
                                      stark deaf.
            Still shoot my shots in the dark with a
                                        feeling
               Sure I'll only miss.
               What would I do if it hit?
               A ricocheted round and two feet
                   meet ground after theft.

                 I know I'll be nursing this one
                                for a while—
                 Lick the sour wound while the
                             daylight fades.
                 So hit the **** dimmer on your way
                                out the door.
                  I'll be fine in the gloam
                 'til you find your way home...

                 I'll be fine in the dark we
                                   shot into.
              Pour another one, sweets, in the
                                  endless cup.
                I'll be fine in the dim, with my
                              separated skin,
           until the Springtime comes and I can
                           sew this ****** up.

I feel that same Sunday chaos
in the kitchen, fingers digging
into orange skin

a trailing scent of spring
citrus blooms into the air

here, in this moment
with one hand
and terrible penmanship
I write my name

and with the other
I hold the feeling
of missing things

Ploughed fields
stark after rain
standing proud, brown and plain,
this year's crop will be planted soon
on corrugated paper
in the steamy water vapour
of a spring afternoon

Deep custard coloured daffodils
True harbingers of spring
Tall mustard painted trumpets
A joyous star-like thing.
Bright gold encrusted promises
Carried on the wing
A portent of emergent life
That a daffodil will bring

22.3.25
SE

I hear the sweet songs of the birds deep into my heart
The sweet fragrant smell of the rain rejuvenates my soul
The beautiful flowers blooming reawakens my mind
The warmth of the sun brings my body back to life
Spring has come oh so lovingly

-Shelly Ramos

Rose blossoms upon the Spring
Boughs and the Sunflower breeze
Like a Burlesque dancer
Takes off her Winter fur
Cool noon warmths

Reynaldo Casison

You had me
With Spring.

Spring tide
deep and wide
sweeping clean
the beach where winter once was seen

Spring it’s great to see you
so glad you came my dear
it hardly seems a moment
since you were here last year,
we’ve had enough of grey skies
slush and wind and snow
if winter keeps you talking
say you have to go

Just As enigmatic like exotic roses
She can be and seem
Surreal like dreams
She can be down to earth
And sweet as honey dew
Upon the morning glories
With the sunflowers mirth
And evening stars rebirth
Iris moon
Golden
Blossoms of Spring fine wine love

Reynaldo Casison