I Met Novemeber...

I met November; with its calico seals of Samhain slain in a fair death and bled by symptoms of naked hours and loneliness. I shivered with the Strange dread, not of predator or prey but the threat of being siphoned too deeply, into phone -cord spirals; into the greedy sponge of Midnight veils that wave amidst alabaster winds. I found myself swathed in a patient void where sepia changelings in breezes brushed desperate hands and manipulated a restless heart. I was so long compromising, imagining warmth from stagnant shadows and seasons circled in windswept dances, where the choreography seemed to alleviate me of reality. But now, the Autumn frolics whisper of winter, spreading a carpet of gossip scrawled on tablet sheaves the prose of windswept vows that leave empty souls as they pass on, gust to gust, heart to heart and stroke the conscious mind and castrate the thread that welds Love and Dream together. Until, the white ash of burnt love tucks small flaming shards of hope into a heavy envelope and seals it with hushed lullabies and promises of a Spring.