Tomorrow Is October For Me Too

[billy]

I put you in a sacred cup.
Like a child, I whine,
And cry,
For you. not sure the 2nd and 3rd line do anything for the poem as they seem a bit redundant.
Not old enough to drink:
To see into the eyes of a woman,
Grown, with pain.
What she tells me I cannot understand.

But I can understand well enough. 'well enough' feels like packing
I am as young in pain as the child
They will not take to drink;
A pain as fresh, as the dead leaves each year,
After a glorious summer seen from the inside out.
Yes, from inside.

Because, I am the summer,
The sea;
The autumn, and its goblin's veil; reminds me of Christina Rossetti's Goblin Market
I am winter's cozy nook; loved the 1st 4 lines of this stanza.
And springtime's drip Of Saviour's blood.

I am the child that lies within—
That even memories can't save
From the crooked spine excellent three lines
Of your blindness' path.
And you won't come to play with me.

stupidly i read addy's reply and i agree it does feel cryptic, i see a pseudo catholic and pagan fusion thing going on. the narrative has an excellent voice.

i did notice the lack of caps in your other poem and the use of caps here.
i wanted to remark on the ee cummings style (i think it was him ) but didn't. i do prefer this format grammar-wise.

thanks for the read.