Eleven Months Untouched
Silence dripped from leaves left un-plucked
After October winds blew you away.
Who knew that year
Your blood would stain the trees a crimson gold,
Derived from summer’s emerald,
And red – October red - would leave me empty.
Who knew that year the chilling cold
That rested on your tongue would spread
Through fields - a morning mist,
The beauty lost, from shimmering October frost.
Who knew that year you’d send your ghosts
To show up knocking at my door:
Children of October cloaked in cotton skins
That didn’t seem like costumes anymore.
Who knew that year the festive candle flames
Would take you with them when they vanished.
Into October air you perished, quick and easy – painless.
Who knew that year, when I lost you,
I’d lose October too.