I can drown myself in the smell of it Spice and dirty rain I can appreciate the feel of it A chill in the air In your bones. Bones. Still. It's October. The piano sounds the pain so perfectly Bittersweet looks like orange and brown to me Fall. Falling down. Down. Deeper than I ever knew. Oh October. I resist the ache of it Like illness, or fall Watching the leaves crumble and die Fall. To the ground A heaping mess. A pile of leaves. A mound of dirt and an empty hole. An eternity of an empty hole. End October. Like wading through the wet leaves and thick mud the sun clinging on among the storm Sigh. Breathe. It in or out. Just breathe. Falling down. Just Fall.
In Loving Memory of Melody Diane Morgan, 6.21.47-10.27.12