bones

i was just telling him the other day,

fall has not come to the north yet;

but in the very next breath

fall came and sister winter with him.

cold rain and sunday's

national public radio show.

dressed up in sweats and silently

sitting and thinking about the

holidays coming. soup on the stove

for to soothe the broken heart

and empty shell of bones keeping

this body together; the weather.

rain water runs down the plane glass of

my window where nearby my neighbors

tree thrashes violently from winter's

wind come to us so suddenly.

the pain of becoming more and more

who you are; and without anyone's

help which is something to be thankful

for but not yet; not yet.

forming shapes out of the air and

opinions from my hair. and lonely

is absurd to dream of the forgotten

world, hands holdin' in greece and

the peace you find from alone in

your bed, the texture of a plaster

wall with postcards and ticket stubs

and notes from old friends, your

value forgotten again and

physical touch, the ache of an

absence relaxes us. fluttering

eyelids that long for sleep to

last too long so that months may

go by a little faster and rapture

once more when i hold you in

my arms again.