September

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Early morning rises
Sun long asleep
Late night tirades
The world is fast in its keep
Words
Interspersing, nonchalant
Failure to become

Witnessing of inevitable ends
Nothing stops, for fear of retreat
Perhaps it is fear of want
For the grace of desperate yearning
Lies in the power of helpless needing


Looking back while barreling forward
Steadily unraveling
Scurry, scurry, scurry
Heeding crippling commands


Wishing washing daydreamer
Spread out under the stars
Eternally stored underneath the between

Come alone
Lay out your demands
With luck, we’ll prevail
Never expect too much


Ever quieting, rustling sounds
Fast approaches the dawn
For when it comes
For when it breaks
Your world has come undone





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