autumn falls:

back to the time of year to turn that new leaf over from brown to green
so many laps past the flag and not a change in a thing
that time when the cold creeps in deeper every time you breathe
so many times around the carousel, but useless swings
those days with frosty walks, open skies, and blank minds
when you see the proof of existence with every exhaled line
clouds of in and out, the breath of shouts but all so quiet
in every exhale a bomb, only now you see the fogged riot
that time of quick walks home from work watching lung clouds
left to trace that map from what was to what's now
the time of year when metaphor almost seems a foolish practice
but ignorance is bliss and this masquerade's a habit
so hide behind the mask and slowly count up what you've done
a quarter century of notches without carving a single one
soon the crystals are coming and there's not much time to work
last chance, this time around, to find connection with the dirt

posted by adam @ 1:13 AM