A square of light in a dark room
Time glued on the wall
An open vent but dusty flume
And never did time fall

Then harvest came
And with it new
And places we would go
Down by the sea and twists of trees
For never did we crawl

Because while laying down is easy
And standing up is hard
It doesn’t change that I still stand
So I’ll have to take it on

Then flowers grew
And with them me, me you.
Mechanic springs as sprigs of wings
To see ranges off radar.
While tulips would stick in the glass
They’d only burn a silent scar
It doesn’t mean and doesn’t do
The city only stands
With paces through a faltered hand
It seems only too bold

So seasons change, adhesive peels
Freeze only while it dries
A moment in this space remains
An entirety and all.

Make it bend and make it hail till it bleeds a hum
Rake up the leaves of shining dew
The apple only lasts so long
But arrogance is the new new

I never found the stolen ice
or the twisted metal flume.
What I found was something more,
with rich flavor and sound.
Still waterfalls lead song too tall
And sing of paths with open ends.

Like mercury it seems to pool
(urban, stars outline)
Thought it wants to leave
(You, you, me)
Come January it is stuck
And no longer can breathe.

Followed waves and open shores
A modern arrevou.
That doesn’t mean, not but a thing
Instead it only do.

But now we are so far away
And walk back through the rain.
The square becomes a hallowed sight.
That really is quite strange.

Edit, revise, reorder.
Cover it with paint.
The white-out never fails.
It’s not enough to delay fate
but it can still hold dear.

The vents are cleaned and never sour.
The grit is in the wake.
Habit makes a new mistake
while we still flock a feather.

A maelstrom,
a speech,
and onto a plane–
to greater harvest, too.
A repeat only fades the past
Till it’s glue becomes undone.

I want to write a letter
But only just this one.
It makes it stressed to write it out
So I’ll make due with one.

It ultimately didn’t fail.
Instead was a success.
Quite great, in fact, and truly grand.
It’s almost hard to leave.

There’s so much left to say
But I’ll let the fall’s songs speak.