after the dawn
when bats are awaken
cold starts crawling in
clouds passing over the moon
like water flushing the dust
only dark remained for the last

Moisture permeates the air, a wet haze.
Stillness with anticipation, or tension.
Fresh air containing an aroma.
Natural and earthly,
Like giving into original temptation.

Through the fog she awaits my consumption.
Her taste lovely, like if love had a flavor.
An oozing box of sweet glaze, stands within a wet haze.

The air in this room
Is asphyxiating
But the sunlight is
Too bright outside
And I am far too sad
Inside
And this feeling
Is like cold hands
Grasping
My heart.

So I'll wait and I'll fade
Into the night
A slight figure
In the fog
And walk under the
Sallow light of street lamps
Pretending that my darkness
Will fade into
the black of the sky
If I allow it to slip away

The old Vermont sun shone low in the western sky, wringing itself dry of the last drops of heat for the year, my back reaching for all the warmth it can catch. I tip my head up from its downward shell I created with the brim of my red white and blue hat in an effort to escape my face from the wind. My eyes focus towards the wind whipped trees up ahead; their branches look exhausted as they cling onto the last of the elder leaves. As I widen my vision to a towering landscape, I fail to hold back my surprise at the sight of snow-capped mountains.

Like an evil kingdom atop a large hill, the upcoming winter lurks in the dull grey fog; striking fear in the world beneath it. The snow is the ominous army marching away from the empire; slowly yet surely. Without warning, a great gust catches the brim of my hat, throwing it backwards into oblivion. Winter is nearing me. Cold dark days lie ahead once again.

The fog unrolls itself from hill to tarmac
like winter blinds. It sinks behind hedges
and hovers, hawk-like, over the canal.

A streetlight winks from the path,
muffled by ***** white like a child
smothered in his new winter coat.

The trees have given up for the year
leaving mushy browns and crisp yellows,
sweet damp smell pushed up noses.

Morrison’s is open till ten now.
Piles of pumpkins watch in sorrow,
waiting for homes next to plastic spiders.

Tell me is it day or night
The dark of dawn or dusk's dim light
Where winds are still yet silence blows
As steady as the river flows
Shades of grey all blend to one
A lost lament of love undone
Moonlit mist or sunless shade
Are all well, or all afraid.
Tell me is life dark or light
Tell me- is it day or night?
|b.g.|

I have lost sight of you,
Of myself, probably in the process.
I have traveled through caves,
Carved my way through valleys,
Carried myself through currents with
Hope that seeing your face will bring me back.
You didn’t bring me back.
When I reached for my hand you let me go.
“I gave that to you years ago. How could I again?”
I spit the word “love” and “attachment,”
Thinking they mean the same thing.
I spit the word “hate,” because
That's the synonym you use for my name.
What color are my eyes?
Do you remember- I forgot.
You let me drown; you gave her your hand.
“I have that connection with her, not you.
I gave you all I could, how could I again?”
Her eyes must be a better color than mine.
She tried to kick dust in my face;
She couldn’t reach me.
I was underneath the water,
Choking on words like “love.”
You didn’t say goodbye, but
I guess you left me there to die.
She grabbed your hand before anyone else could.
She wore the necklace that made you hers.
She won the poison this time.
I won’t mumble how you crumble,
She can figure it out on her own.
So, when you let go of her hand,
She can’t blame me, or utter my name.
Because she watched you bury me faster than
The storm that brought me in.