December Boy

March 21, 2014 § 1 Comment

December Boy
There was so much to January Soul
That died off in February Fire
Weathered over by March Rain
Forbidden to bloom in April’s Spring
Avoiding capture by May Honey
And shelter in June Houses
To wither like July Moths
As fickle as August Sins
With September Footsteps
That pierce October Lies
No more will November Lips
Be December’s Mistletoe.


a club long dead.

June 13, 2013 § Leave a comment

The banners taken down,
The meeting room long closed,
They mourn it now,
A thing they never touched
In life.
To how the weight of
How I saw their expectations
Pressed against my lungs and heart,
Trying to keep the magic alive
For fellows who
Were always too
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