as bricks gather puddles

rain bleeds down white October cement
and the last of the honeysuckle and rose
give way to crowns of brittle yellows and rusts.

you ask me what is wrong
and there is no answer to why my answer
is never the right one.

coolness settles like a sigh into the city,
or like resignation, damp and flaccid.
we walk, and come up hard by the riverwall,

all stone and greying mortar against
what solace there is in storm-fed browns.
do not trouble yourself overmuch

by the bitter shade of my loneliness;
all things must flow in turn downstream
save the hawk that hunts above.

12 thoughts on “as bricks gather puddles

  1. a beautiful thought. I have not been on wordpress for a while; I am so happy to be welcomed back by this writing. Thank you

    “you ask me what is wrong
    and there is no answer to why my answer
    is never the right one.”

    I know of this very, very well

  2. I agree it’s great to see new writings from you – the imagery here captures the inevitable dying of the light that is autumn. Yes, you’re never quite understood, and he does not trouble himself overmuch is a wonderful use of words. Keep writing and find pretty colors in the leaves.

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