This November
It rains strange.
The moon a chalice,
Fills up bright
Ambiguous glow light.
The cable wires
Cut right through
My grey and white
Night sky view.
The words, they hang
Just above my head
like buzzing mosquitoes.
Faint meanings and sounds.
The day sliced into two
One you love
One you do.
The world seems a cold and broken hallelujah
and life a play within a play.
***
Some evenings you wake up to find yourself a year ahead.
The season has changed.
***
Some days you wish you could believe its ok to run away.
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