She answered a question I had not meant to ask
With truth in her words and her heart
Of course of course of course it is true
All secret things end as all other things do
They wither and die. They melt to a dew
I had meant my question amuse
What she answered was much too much to bear
Autumn Leaves
The leaves that shaded her in summer
Have fallen now. Dead, flat, wet, brown
Some skeletal, some wedged and broken
Smelling of loss beneath the naked silent trees.
Her footsteps are covered by these metaphors
That also float to nowhere in the wind
And where she looked one day
Lovingly at the summer's pond
There are only solemn bare branches of remorse
Conjuring
The first warm day since you've left here
I went down to swim in the pond
To the place we had been together
I was wishing of course to conjure you
Hoping a mystic force would bring you there
Hoping love would conquer all
Unhappily Reason prevailed
And I swam back alone
