Mid-August, the weather patterns change,
but slowly,
like something forgotten in the fridge;
the holy
turning secular, then profane.
We had our own world, you and I,
a beautiful in-joke
but, behind your back as I looked at you,
a green-screen took
over and spoiled it with the whisper of a lie.
All summer, verdant leaves and cool shade
were hiding
the dying brown when the sugar stops flowing.
I'm finding
endings gorgeous, and terrible, like the love we almost made.
_______
for Sunday Muse #230.
Music: Jennifer Warnes "Pretending To Care" (written by Todd Rundgren)
That is how it can be with so many things. A slow shift of thinking of feeling or being. I love how you conveyed that in your poem Shay. You always communicate feelings and thoughts in such a way that never has been done before. That is what makes you such an amazing poet my friend!
ReplyDeleteGah. Those two closing lines go right to the heart.
ReplyDeleteThat gradual rotting is...beautiful? And I love the first stanza.
ReplyDeleteI love the pace of this, as sonorous and measured as the mysteries of the seasons themselves, which here show as a reflection of the ever-changing and mysterious seasons of the heart, which also occur as they will and are destined to. Beautiful poem, Shay.
ReplyDeleteThis is a wonderful piece, effortlessly entered and grasped. The melancholy is bittersweet rich. Liked this Shay… ✌🏼
ReplyDeleteI so, so love how you ended this, Shay - just perfect for this beautiful piece.
ReplyDelete~David
Beautifully layered and paced. Those first lines greening with spores and mold - slowly, lovingly, the beautiful gorgonzola of love...
ReplyDeleteI like the line breaks in this, and the ending is a killer!
ReplyDelete