Sunday, September 8, 2013

Evening in October (Poem 159)

Evening in October,
summer now 
      deliciously out of reach, 
like a lingering itch
      in the center of your back

String of tiny lights
strung around an awning,
casting a golden glow on garden 
      chairs whose seats 
         are now reserved 
for mounds of damp brown leaves

Smoke hangs 
    heavy in the air, resting
sweetly on winter's first chill

The road we used to walk along,
when evenings stretched 
      well into night
--alight with fireflies 
and hazy stars--
is rutted and slick with frost,
like fine white lace on the mud

But our fingers are still 
entwined, and your hand,
your fine, strong hand,
is still warm
in mine

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six

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