september’s chill

poems 1 Minute

©2022 Michael Raven

with swords for stars
shining down sharp
cutting vision in twain
here are small
mycelial & meek
under the nightcloth waving
over our sleep tonight tonight
drone the summer
locust tree shredding
to september's chill dream
 
everything tastes
differently the same
every perfume hunger
drives

stag and bone
come to me
tonight tonight
come to me
tonight
Published

4 thoughts on “september’s chill”

    1. A part of me is itching for antlers to do… something… with. I can’t put my finger on what, but there’s something in the back of my noggin. Probably just the two brain cells that got lost wandering around in that empty cavity during the ’88 Pink Floyd tour. But maybe…

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