Late September Wishes

Old curbs

Damp grass

Trees releasing summer's excesses

In my veins
Clouds
Still searching me for the sky
While I sleep
I look for them all day

Time
Comes in handfuls
Or curls like dead ferns
And feet on paisley sheets

The orange recharge
Brittle reminds me to look
Hard

I live
Here
Where rain is warm
Surprises are banned
And I'm grateful for wishes I don't make
And I look
Hard

I lick dirty glass mornings
And swallow until rain turns into pills in my hands
And my shoulders are wet from
Yellow moss
And I run through corn fields to find new confessions
For nobody in particular
Death will know my refined pallet for time
And we'll laugh as I turn to dust