23 Oct 2015 – October

Forbidden romance roiling in the leaves of late October.
Illuminated like some well carved pumpkin, seeds and pieces
strewn about, well mixed with love’s fine packing foam and refuse.

An arctic blowjob, gusting up to thirty miles per hour.
A maple crown you won’t keep long that’s dying with the daylight.
A sun whose million dollar smile shines mainly to deceive us.

Squirrels are busy stashing nuts, they’re knocking at your window.
All your bird-brained friends flown south, there’s no one left to ask you:
is it love – or are you merely clinging to September?