Plain American Language

I cut a sliver/of WC William's finger
and placed it inside/my philosophy...

Sunday, February 10, 2008

#40 ya'lls!!1! Autumn's Child

It’s summer in South America.
Santiago, Chile,
is hot and I have stayed
inside my house for too much time

doing nothing.

This title is stolen from a song I almost downloaded
but wasn’t able to in the end.
I long for autumn.

Even summer carries a certain loneliness.

It’s the right temperature outside.
From the dryness of this city
I can wear flip-flops and be cold
though comfortably cold

like the beginning of autumn. I miss New England.
Trees, glazed in burnt colors.
Everything is possible in autumn
though most people believe it’s the spring that renews.

I doubt that. Through fallen leaves you can see
the probable future
and the smell propels you back into memories.
Sadness and happiness like yellow apples.

Summer is simplicity.
It’s here for heat’s sake; for the blossoming of blueberries
strawberries, peaches and plums.
The darkest plum skins are an autumn night.

When heat is what keeps you in,
no doubt there’s loneliness in summer.
You begin to think about the outside,
unintentional looks at the market, while waiting for fresh apple cider.

No comments: