Favourite October passed by my bed,
no coffee spilled this time
I danced as always, a little shabbily though
lighting the October lights
My hair shone in the dark,
they were sort of stringing the limits of shadows
towards a geometrical plane,
making sense of our darker months
nothing more than a ploy
and I realize aging is a phenomenon
better left to maths,
when I can humor myself with
dark free flowing poetry,
who needs the world.
Maybe this is time.
And it's going to be October in November.
no coffee spilled this time
I danced as always, a little shabbily though
lighting the October lights
My hair shone in the dark,
they were sort of stringing the limits of shadows
towards a geometrical plane,
making sense of our darker months
nothing more than a ploy
and I realize aging is a phenomenon
better left to maths,
when I can humor myself with
dark free flowing poetry,
who needs the world.
Maybe this is time.
And it's going to be October in November.
2 comments:
December is what i dread.The cold freezing everything that once used to flow.
Your lovely october,my october of sirens that i chose to ignore.
Funny,isn't it?
You are lovely as always.
Remembering the times when writing means october!!
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