the queen of cherry


has grown bitter


brewed too long

like a vacation

ending too


suddenly but not bitterly,

only that is lost now

to the tapestry,

the bright red thread

of passion;

back to work

it goes,

we go,

you and i,

and last night there was that dream,

only the middle remains,

the hill top

and all the people,

and the lioness

making everyone run.

but me.

i heard the voice

and it said be still.

and so the lioness approached,

walking around me,


before going on her way.

the morning fog has lifted,

the church bells are ended,

and i think how i found you again

in september

and will lose you now

to october.


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