because while some truths lend themselves to equations, others are best described in verse

September is like a slow country song

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wherein i grow cozy in the glow of lies,
my skin safe, my breath a purr even
as fall falls, the skies deepening their blue:
cornflower, cobalt, sapphire; darken
to the slate of reckoning season, & i
have counted these shades before—
they are a luck charm to hang
over the headboard, a warding like the spray
bottle i use on the cat. our river spills
its tears over burnt summer
banks, burying the rocks in their sea-dreaming,
making bitter waterfalls of our riverpaths.
the gutters overflow, seeping into the walls,
leaving stains in the corners around the bed
where i watch the season change by the fade
of its tan lines.

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4 responses

  1. Kay Middleton

    Excellent

    September 15, 2015 at 9:41 am

  2. Ron

    Absolutely exquisite!!

    September 15, 2015 at 12:13 pm

  3. This is a beautiful, eloquent poem Joanna. So glad you are a Viking! Warm wishes, Nicky

    September 18, 2015 at 3:43 am

    • Thank you so much, Nicky! Very happy to have you as my Viking captain! (Were they captains? More like war leaders?) 🙂

      September 18, 2015 at 6:38 am

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