The way it trickles
down spine
with a tinge of experience -
innuendoes
in the subconscious of unsure
a mix of lavender and mulberry
- settles soft
folds around gray night
with magical allure
from moon’s solitude
inescapable pulses of color
whisper
and spin counterclockwise
born of a new idea
washed with blue waters of symbolism
clouds shift
in contemplation –
enchanted and weightless -
retrospect patterns
that wilt
inside balmy breezes
and yet,
I’m incomplete
inside September
and thin rows
of harvest gold
temperamental changes
of rhythm
with ulterior motives
that empty me
like unfinished notes
intent on completion
9/30/08
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