these days

when September’s warm,

warm and sunny and innocent,

there’s usually something

the universe is lingering

to tell me and it usually

has to do with nostalgia.

both know that in this case,

I’d rather not know, for once.

these ladies, one dressed all black,

the other in a velvety red, seductively,

have known each other for a long time

and always know, anyway.

but these fresh and chilly nights

they cannot hide from me, oh no.

here I step out on the balcony.

in these hours between the seasons,

on the pulpit of all pushes and pulls,

I ponder what my place is in the

recurring nature of all things

and the foolishly brief wink

that this little lifetime merely is.

and before the scale is tipped,

finally, eventually, and imminently so,

I balance on the moment

tip-toeingly:

for tonight, there is no answer.