(no subject)

[dearbyron]

The quick winter does not creep
the hills are made higher
as the world twists to greet
the yellowing sun
sooner
and lets it leave
lovers bed
later in the day.

its cold outside

the leaves green in the gutter
wonder what happened.

in the lower garden it has always been wet
she shattered concrete steps slip
into the shade and the rich-thick
water filled weed.
the shadow garden sees no change
among the evergreen