Khore: Remembering October
Mon Nov 13 13:19:12 2000
She was like the leaves of October, all golden hued
And some, still green, that clung to old ideas
And some, a shade of red that knew no resignation,
But from some distance back, just gold with hints
of color that nowhere else in this world brims.
And once deep in October, in outstretched soft-skinned hands
there was that gift that sits and gleams
of joy in most unexpected places, and a sidelong glance,
And the hint of a smile that dared to dance
The words unspoken knew no poetry but truth.
So in November, and as the cold days pass too slow,
She's out there deep in yesterday, still in a haze
of promised snow and leaves all golden hued.
And I am warm not for having remembered October
But to know: October still remembers me.