This autumn, its rituals
return in our heads mostly:
grinning pumpkins, the livid
memory in flaring reds
and yellows of the maples,
the fireworks, the sugary
doorstep hits. As the glass falls
we are looking out, windows
our new cinemas of grief.
This autumn, its rituals
return in our heads mostly:
grinning pumpkins, the livid
memory in flaring reds
and yellows of the maples,
the fireworks, the sugary
doorstep hits. As the glass falls
we are looking out, windows
our new cinemas of grief.