autumn 9

autumn is for early morning walks
through air as crisp and sweet as an apple

for the smell of eucalyptus in the dark
(for stopping myself from licking at leaves)

autumn is for tripping over gumnuts as I run along the river
and soft, yellowing sappy leaves

for rich reds
and charcoal black
of burning, bleeding trees

I desire oceans

If I could drink my fill

I would drain the ocean dry

I would press my lips to the mouth of the river

And breathe in every corner of her body

I would suck the brine from each grotto

Run my finger through each racing rivulet

Cup my hands beneath the gutter

Until I gasp for breath

for in me is desire

as boundless as the sea

sunrise

I play Russian roulette with the sunrise
some days I get skies threaded with anticipation
some days I get stained sheets and staggered breaths
some days I get the moment
mind splitting
a spill of colour

change

well I learnt to live with longing
that stale ache of desire

I went to the sea
to the sea each morning
I dug my toes in the sand
threw my arms wide
and called for grace
to soften the bitterness that had hardened my heart

I asked for patience
for myself
for those I loved with such fierceness

I tried so hard
I walked such a long way
with such heaviness on my back

and I shouldered it all
because I would sooner
set myself on fire
than let anyone down

because I am so strong
and so selfless

I celebrated it
I took a deep breath
steadied my stride
and I asked for more

more love,
more sadness
more life

But I am so tired
and I dont want a heavy soul anymore

autumn 8

autumn is for patchwork calico skirts
for heavy bones and sonnets
for rusty red and mossy green wool
and for blistered banjo hands

autumn is for a hardened heart