Bricks wrapped in autumn leaves
Houses shielded under frosts
Hearts veiled with frail hopes,
And the red of the trees spilling drops in open souls.
This is what I see on the roads I walk.
Paths of solitude in yellow and faint light
Flowers trembling in silence waiting for the night
Thoughts rolling in the midst of buried times,
And the black draining off the reasons that just came to mind.
This is what I hear when I step inside.
Birds cutting skies and drawing lines
Storms bringing the unrest to sheltered lies
Days craving for the balance of old sites,
And the white whispering to wishes that hold all the past.
This is what I’ve locked and need to push aside.