Autumn born and autumn led
Autumn named, maybe autumn wed
For who knows what the wind will blow around your knees
Or what will fall
...
What to buy a woman who’s grown up with quality,
who sums its parts up, knows the names it calls us with?
What would suit a woman who wears the right decision,
...
With a wind tan of what gets to him, he
turns his back on what is beckoning,
knowing it's bringing, red-lettered,
a date with it - one he may never learn.
...
Like gnats, strange lights bother
the marsh. Crickets chirp, bats
skim across the ale-dark night
and a breeze rustles the leaves
...
A breakable silence held
until a tear rolls
into a sob
and you turn away your face.
...
It comforts some to see life
as a journey to a happy land,
where the holiday sun never sets.
Heaven – no maps exist; no one
...
Swarthy brow and barley fingers; nails with cheerless moons of grime;
Deadweight sackcloth suit coarse fitting; long his laughter, short your time.
His hand on your shoulder makes you older, holds you where the clocks don’t chime.
His grinning bearhug makes you bolder; reason does not sit with rhyme.
...
At the end of escalators out, wind
drives rain hard into the face -
umbrellas can't withstand it.
...