“September Leaves”
my dear september, alive with light and wrapped in leafy mantel,
windswept, standing in a patch of graceful sun, with tender care, you unfurl.
and finite here, the breath of mortal circuits, speaks to none of distant grief.
my dear september, we walk together
the crisp sigh that follows every lingering step, both awe and silence follow,
and whistling like a grieving ghoul, the harmony of winter’s yawn.
my dear september, the tune which plays beside me,
fiery eyes grow dim, and a distant frost floats in the ivory heights, testing.
I find a place to rest. We sit and watch the light grow dim. You rise.
Your golden spine flickers with each breath and then breaks. Slowly at first and while I find my focus, without exposition, scatters. You refuse to wait.
forgotten faces speak in silence, and a forgotten sun sets over a hazy summit. I leave.
the last days of so much life declare that I am immortal.
Dude, it’s not even September yet.
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