10/7/20 – 11:00 pm – Waning Gibbous (after the VP debate)
Maybe I’m finally done
writing about the moon
and celestial things
and all the ways the night sky
can be personified
Maybe I’m done
with simile and metaphor
and all the profound epiphanies
of poetic inspiration
or maybe it’s just this stolen year
as empty as a glass ornament
soon we’ll be thrust
into the cold grasp of winter
with its grey skies
and blank mountains
October is waving goodbye
crying rufous tears
as the trees blaze, ignored
and the birds migrate through
there’s no use trying to hold
onto all this splendor
I understand futility
but I’m not proud of this