It ends, but only for a little while,
and follows fading footsteps of past light.
The air is thick with September’s first trial,
the webs, the pollen, and the general blight.
So many leaves, still look so green and all
these flowers think, that they too have more time,
and even if, they cut the moments small,
there's not enough, to keep them in their prime.
Won’t all survive, yet life goes on giving
with webs to hang tomorrow’s dreams and still,
next year hope, we’re here among the living,
the season fades, and soon the frost may kill,
And in the time it takes to walk on through,
one single tiny simple little thought,
I watch a cloud advance across the blue
so slowly then more slowly than it ought.
I'm out here writing, nothing can go wrong.
A wasp crawls slowly as it stings my wrist.
Time moves so slowly, yet it takes too long.
These painful seconds are all that exist.
The cloud floats by as burn and tingles climb
and fill these words with pain, I do agree.
I’d still do anything to save this time,
as painful as this present just might be.
If you still don’t know
why don’t you just go
I’m not asleep so
up minutes ago
These heavy eyes show
how tired I am though
Wake and it’s quiet
can’t justify it
does she mean by it
can’t really deny it
my eyes a minute
too much disquiet
I’m loudly sighing
can’t be denying
can’t be seen crying
deaf ears relying
really I’m trying
When I called out loud
whisper in a crowd
feeling far too proud
floating on a cloud