Autumn, I come alive for you
My blue boy
My golden chariot
My vampire
Incessant as the music you sing
Entranced by the way the sky wails
I carry you through thick, black smoke
By the fields, the red month
Every year you come back to me and smile
The way you do, and every year
I make a cake for you and come alive for you
I unwind for you, and every year, like an expected visitor
You bring me gifts
Titanium, lemon, forest-green and orange
Hot chocolate mornings and soup when I'm sick
The despondent grey above lifts me with its barbed wire hands
Trees with no mouths, come apart at the roots
Fall into the apple-cider breeze, the berries, the cobwebs
The flume and the howling grey flesh
It's almost as if I became a version of you
A still life, someone with no identity, nothing to anchor myself to
A mirror of you, longing for my old self.
- Author: Jordan Cash (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: October 30th, 2022 20:41
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 20
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
Comments1
Brilliant!
your last stanza's imagery
and fully realised grey metaphor
was a joy of a poetic treat, to read
thank you, as always
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