looking out across suburban yards to the construct of our days through the thinning of the trees.
why can i only build a house of cards?
that gets blown to pieces with the fall’s first fickle breeze.
when i feel that stirring, the illicit kiss.
that’s just the cool tongue of the devil with a sucker in his midst.
one day i’ll change you’ll be the first one that i call.
i owe you an apology too many thanks and that’s not all.
i’ve been running long before i learned to crawl.
my calendar lies crumbled laid to waste.
it’s been scrawled on, thumbed through and changed.
will this be the measure of my days?
dinners and appointments and deadlines i can’t make.
and when i start to see i start to see it making sense for me.
that’s just hope springing eternally.
outside the summer’s gone for good.
dying impatiens stacked up wood.
my friend will get together to cook.
to talk about what happened to take a second look.
the master loves the servant who blind heeds him.
the husband the obedient wife.
the snake will always bite the hand that feeds him.
even if you love him even if you save his life.