Sunday, December 6, 2009


we were like indian summer
not meant to be
just happened
mother nature's privileged art
out of season
precious mistakes
that make life unexpected
that pushes the living
and we grew
the ever present cleavage of division
being unnatural as we were
I was thrown back to summer
and you locked in your fall
branched from a common past
spinning to disorder
abscission in the painful sense
in the end, it will have been brief
and then it seemed eternal
silly children with no concept of time
and faith in promises

No comments:

Post a Comment