the storm rolls in and over her

the storm rolls in and over her;

a world of changing metaphor:

of summer sunlight turned to rain –

to dark and damp and ever-pour –

 

inside the rainbow of her dreams,

yet lives a shadow, once in light —

the storm rolls in and covers her,

and helpless day gives way

to hopeless

night

bits

every day, the voices calling,

colors swirling, shadows falling,

every night, the bits of aching,

dreams so close too far for taking —

 

every morning, sitting silent,

angry news and world gone violent,

evening each, they push and pull her,

grasping for some bits

of color

old ground

we’re covering the same old ground,
on each word, we obsess:
the fields are neat and ordered, but
the human heart’s a mess

things go as they are wont to go;
they come, and pass away —
new crops upon the same old ground,
another
yesterday

in november

i tangled you in snow because
you tangled me in dreams;
i sought you in november, by
a thousand frozen streams

you bade me to remember that
a heart was made for breaking;
despairing winds were blowing, and
like me, the leaves were shaking

i tangled you in dreams because
you mangled me in snow;
in cold november once, beside
the fields of long
ago