straddling the cherry blossoms and the sea
my love awakes and comes for me

wind-swept hair and moonlight skin
a remnant of my mortal sin

of silent wood bearing heavy weight
my love's last words denied by fate

how taut the rope had to be tied
when the last moment arrived

and how deep the hatred buried there
ensconced in love and bound by air

down the cliff, the land between
death and life and more unseen

the moonlight saw my mortal sin
and there I waited, burning skin

until the tide returned to me
my love, still dead, came from the sea

somehow, the front porch lights seem more
yellowed, muted -
like images of a child, tiny hands
wrapped around a lightbulb
hazy and unclear around the edges

soft felt patterns
heartfelt sighs
Autumn always reminds me of my last love
and the love before that, and before that
we always seem to drift apart
somewhere between September,
November

maybe it's the way I obsess over the colors
that drives you to despair
or just the change towards sweatshirts
hooded and obscured
that makes you wonder what's beneath
and begin to doubt me
and the layers wrapped around an apple core
bitten and gnawed on

I'm always alone -
well, not always, there's always another
waiting to be near -
but when each footfall is muffled
by wet brown leaves clinging to cement
then I feel that my loneliness
is beautiful

and as much as I need you
it's the needing that warms my heart
as the last embers of July, August fade to gray
it's not the you.