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
