the green is gone
a nascent wind gives back the smoke
from my drawn apart lips
trees rustle with summer's last life
dancing in their limbs
that was the last day i saw a green
like the one below your brow
just an evening foreshadowed that the days to come brought calling crows
and cold
cold without your arms to draw ahold
as the bath water left standing when i found you out ..cold on your mattress
and warmed you with a quilt
that day left me cold
as the hydrangeas in your grandmother's garden the early brisk of fall
beginning to wilt