October 15th’s Wide Eyes
Six months on brain drain
Have left to find me here: nearly 500 miles and two seasons away.
But still a only weird five feet from your door step.
Especially on fall four-a.ms
I can smell far-away Virginia’s chapped hands, the cool fogs, my sleepy eyes.
Smell the wet slip of tire-pressed leaves- how they churn with your
Mutterings of “goodbyeiloveyou”, and my worry
over those words at gas stations 45 minutes from work
when I am already late.
There is a sallow change, a sick twinge
In my favorite season. This day I find myself listening to the politics
of a lost boyish lover at four a.m.
Cautious, I avoid his affectionate sleep-slung hands and elbows, recalling
for a moment, how, the equinox-one year rewound–
I gave work-morning “goodbyes” to you.
-A very rough draft from Amanda-Gaye