When September Comes

Two eyes and a head,
and hours from now,
and hours until you come.

My shadow waits for the
sun to set, my shadow
will be no more when
daylight fades.

Two ears and a mouth,
and I’ll make a decision.
I become impatient,
I roar loud instead.

But you will come
in a few hours, and a
few hours are as quick
as spur-winged geese.

I can’t be sick,
I’ll sit and wait.
My body will crash,
my eyes will sleep.

Histories, memories,
you and I will get better
when September comes,
when September comes.

 

2018

About chester maynes

poet, and a lover of music and books.
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

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