the air has changed
dead leaves settle into
furniture
carpet
driveway
woods
a heavy damp harbor
of dying mosquitoes, ticks and centipedes.

muted colors
dried
withered
frail
prosper amongst greens/browns dulled by fog, rain and the greyness of almost winter
I refuse to sweep away death
I refuse to rake up decay

let it linger
just this november

Advertisements