Thursday, October 27, 2005

Scarlet bleeding leaves

by cafegroundzero on Oct 27, 1983

The maple leaves lie strewn
across the sidewalk, frost-coated.
The November gust like a torch
rushes burning over us and the plains
laying an ash of cold and white on all.

Youth? Old man is left now with wrinkles
remembering his lost manly beauty.
He walks upon the stubbled furrows
trodding on a withered smut-stained stalk.
Force: and though he dreams when he was tough
now he lies curled in a fetal on sweat soaked sheets.

Come back! I screamed in silence as a teen.
Wake up! I told myself as I trod the walks
of brick, of concrete block, to myself I talk.
My girlfriend's eyes of frozen ocean blue
seemed even then to be so cold,
made me even then feel old.
And when I tried to find her warmth I felt ice
and could imagine her further under and receding
sinking into the black black pond.

I shouted! but in vain, agonized,
and I pounded the ice with chapp'd red fists
lifting my arms to strike but no use...

I wanted then to join the dream
to come out of the cold.
But in my dream her corpse was wrinkled,
and I was numb, so I retold
the dream in which I had foretold
our breaking up, way back in 1984,
in 1984 the year of Winston's tragedy,
a tale that left me sad for months when I first read it,
even riding the streets stealing peaks from the book.

In that dream again, she -- you, I wrote her then
--receded into the mirk which swirled and distantly
she seemed so pale,
even then as I woke I remembered her eyes sapphire,
even in my premonitions of her death her hair flamed red.


Comment? All rights reserved, cafegroundzero. Copying without permission for non-personal use is forbidden.

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