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  October's Child




You stood there in your trench coat of smugness
Knowing fate would weave a glance from me
Me, who slept on pillows of a certain pedigree,
Standing in diamoned shadows, beneath a dying tree


The sun touched the footprints from your visit
I felt your stare under those chords of blue
Across keys of an ivory memory, I painted you
Summers ago, winters long, threads of two


We stayed in a shanty by the edge of the sea
Your charcoaled brilliance spun me around
As we painted the air with our every sound
Winter spilled secrets, on hoarfrosted ground


Shadows peeked from my parlor of jeweled lace
You lifted my eyes from hills made of stone
You strung each moment into notes of baritone
I held your glance as I stood in your shadow, alone

Mon Liebchen

October 11, 2015



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