Archive
09/07/11 - (1)
Always
Weekends in early September Should always be the first to welcome fall home . . . Always be cerulean, with hints and tinges of winter Lingering at the far-distant edges of the welkin, As wisps and tatters of cloud-flags whispering summer's surrender . . . Always be a steady seventy-something degrees, Just enough heat to feel the need to don your fleece jacket, When you unlatch the top from your sleek sports car And stow it neatly in the trunk, Before flying off, down the open highway, toward wherever . . . Always speak freedom's mother tongue, So that September and you can translate love's enchanting sutras, Recite, to each other, the intimate nuances of stroking, Which only soul mates know, when autumn comes calling, As, always, it does, with every chill breeze that caresses the air, Calling all of us to its altar, that, face to face, we might remember, Remember how all things bring us to fall, Bring us to ends, ends to beginnings, beginnings to always.
09/07/11 - (1)
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