Tag Archives: autumn

A Place of Dark Magic

November.

Hair blue as her eyes.

Weight of her.

Soft, fluffy parka.

Vespa ride to the park.

Skeletal trees.

Cold, clear creek.

Roar on the overpass.

We smoke cigarettes.

We drink wine.

She shivers.

She pulls her jacket tight.

Night is falling. Stars come.

Wine is poor man’s infatuation.

Cigarettes are bitter almonds.

We sit in swings.

We talk of paradise.

I miss the weight of her.

I wish we could ride to paradise.

Or a place of dark magic.

I drop her off.

We hug. We shiver. We hope.

November may stay this year.

Hope a pimped out whore.

Hope may beat it all yet.

 

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Ghastly Shows

The wild autumn wild blows
as we stand in line for ghastly shows.
Hand in hand we walk into the dark,
where only our love is a bright spark.

And we see the ghosts and ghouls
and we laugh at vampires; we know their rules.
The zombies walk in the graveyard,
their souls and faces broken and marred.

when it’s over now, and we walk out on the street,
dancing in the skeletal wind, not missing a beat.
We make our world under the kiss of the moon,
never caring that dawn is coming so soon.

The Cold Is Paradise

She is laughing, wild abandon and carefree dreaming.

               The bumper cars whirl and whirl and the night is a blur.

               The very edge of autumn. Last hurrah before winter.

 

               The cold is paradise. The bitterness of the air a solace.

               She is in her favorite jacket, bright red scarf I made her.

               I have that hat she loves so much, with the fleur de lis.

 

               Tinny, chirpy music plays as we go round and round.

               The flicker of sparks crackles and sputters as we spin.

               Simple games, a night spent forgetting so much……

 

               The game stops. The current dies. Tinny music silent.

               Laughing, it’s all a lark, just a night together, just us.

               And we’ve got time to do so much more before morning.

Saturday Clothes

September chill, she pulls her blue coat close.
Dim gold of morning light, blue dress, white stockings.
Patent leather shoes. Her heart races at the thought of him.
The morning sun haloes her flaxen head.
Saturday, cool of autumn, chill of another year passing on.
The clear, cold waters of the creek running through the park.
They will sit together, and hold hands, and the trees will bleed.
They will kiss softly, tenderly, still sweet though almost grown.
The swing set as morning burns away and the sun grows so bright.
Still cool, 9 minutes out, though the light can show us the way.
She will sit and smile as he pushes her up towards the clouds.
They’re both dressed so fine before summer comes, and with it loss.
They will hold hands as he walks her home on a wide, tree lined street.
Wars burn heaven down in the afternoon, and desire rebuilds it at night.
A hug, and she will kiss his cheek, and then his brow, blue eyes like stars.
He will smile, and blush, and he will watch her go inside, everything perfect.
How I’ve tried to relive this moment, this innocence, in what came after.
How I’ve tried to remember the warmth of a cool autumn.