Monthly Archives: September 2014

Seven Months

Seven months hurts
even more than six.

The balance of the year now tips
towards emptiness.

An entire baseball season missed.
A year with no seasons left.

He never liked the summer much
or so he said, and now it’s over.

September song of paper leaves
dying earth that smells like campfire

He would have busted out
his down vest and Stetson hat

And sipped coffee from his thermos
some cool early morning

imagining the fog
to match the chill.

Autumn everywhere else
is his San Francisco weather.

I am everywhere else
but where he is.

The fog is always with me now
either rolling or about to roll

pure like black coffee
white like cream

dense like chocolate
dead like dreams

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