October
comes down with the rain
the
patterns
drip
drop nonstop
cloud
to bend sorrow
a
leavening of water
against
ritual grains
and
the odd rise
of
bread and memory
an
airplane groans
in
the thick wet
cold
syrupy air
cocooned
in water
beneath
the clouds
its propeller
engine scream
kneads sound
in a squeeze
above
the river
the
Moon starts
to
shave the wane
for
Her October
her
courtesan
coming
aboard
claiming
what’s left
in
the garden
as
theirs
the
whispers
between
them regale
that
the veil nears
ghosting
clear
across
the channel
that
divides
the
dead
from
our exhales
every
tiny embrace
is
starting
to
tear open
the
portal decays
of
the forest
so
by the time
it is the next
belly
full Moon
we are hunting
with
frost
on
the gourds
for
the horned quiet
in the brown grasses
of
each beginning
fattening up with Winter
and settling
in for awhile
EJR
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