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
for tonight, there is no answer.