Early Autumn Summary
                    Early Autumn Summary

I'd my mind between my callused fingers
as though a heart and phallus polished
in sun and moon could stomach another, I
had my own ideas about things. A rattler could by
any other language be less quiet when it's thinking.
A heart is more earth than moon;
I only dreamed, I was mistaken.

Here comes a new leaf, so lately dead,
if unattached is dead, it still whispers when the
wind crackles it, louder now alone;
who are these leaves if no one knows another,
so gathered here alone, so early.
My trees always undone so soon.

No question. There's enough to gather
and calm and excite and dilute a solution.
I've made syrup out of pain and potions from shadows dearest.
But the sun has more room now my thoughts are bare;
clouds take no more human shapes, nor cupids laughing;
lingering mosquitoes are my only friends.
What happened to ghosts?! No questions?

Lodged in the Garden of Unrequited Love,
the Bower of Bolts Shot in Trees,
the black bird, call it crow, rook, raven,
simply black, bird, bird that left the ark,
left the story, calls me, to me,
shows the sky is not what it seems,
the garden but a planet.

But I enjoy the Planet. "It is
Plateau." But can I have it? "Yes,
and if you leap you can eat it too."

With September, October's running mate,
I saw a spring that is a road
that has no wall or river around it.
No moat centering my eye.
The bird is gone. My mind is empty.
But the sun was no more a king
than the dead leaves, alone;
they have their hell and have learned to enjoy it.

I was born and reared in summer. The fall is nothing more than everything.
So much to enjoy here.  Especially,

"shows the sky is not what it seems,
the garden but a planet."

Reminds me of Terry Pratchett (in "Hogfather," I think it was) concerning what would happen if the villains succeeded in killing (the) divinity... something like,

Quote:"But if they succeeded, the Sun would still come up tomorrow, wouldn't it?"

"No, not the Sun.  Merely a burning ball of gas."

but more poetic  Thumbsup .
feedback award Non-practicing atheist
Well well well- probably my favorite of your poems. It somehow made complete sense to me, though I don't know how or why.
Im tired of writing poems. But it's the closest thing I am. So I have to keep getting better.

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