Bitter coffee at dawn
is an aftertaste
of spilled wine and tears
Flames leap like cheerleaders
But I have little to cheer about
as I leave the house
blanketed in a mist of thought.
I crumble his chocolate
litter the road with a shared moment
now dead in the grass.
I pound music in eardrums,
rewiring the heartbeat
and my voice is a chorus in a Shakespearean play
through the analogy of pop.
Stained glass catches my eye -
what was once clear fogged up
by pastel paint glinting in grey.
I watch them like it's aurora borealis
while the wind races the leaves to my feet
puzzled by my fixation to things that shatter.
By the lake I picture stones skipping away stillness
as my ears are loud with musical catharsis.
Raindrops tap a path home
but my feet cannot follow
those bulleted steps just yet.
I walk instead on the autumn ocean
blanketing the frost tipped grass
And like Moses I float upon its leafy waves