Monday, October 13, 2014

you can never go home, but everyone goes home in October

there, a
black furred squirrel
finds the right
side of the street,
twists up for sale sign,

rain falls in drizzles

not really touching
ground,

scent of
pumpkin patches
and wet clothes

gray sky
gray cars
little girl with
gray eyes
gray memories

in a coffee cup
mimics the sky

and clouds drift
cough float heavy
above the earth

gray bodies
gray minds

there's something
reassuring in it's
bleakness

something real.

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