The Fall

Everything I touch turns to dust
Mentors are fired
Relationship are retired
If my soul was attached, it would rust
Fortunately, it isn’t, though—split from it like Pan’s shadow
Sewn to my heel
Stitched so I can feel
Step I take
That takes me further away

And the trail of ash and bodies in my wake keeps me awake at night
Hoping for a sign that I’m doing something right
But the destruction says otherwise
Is my heart just a heart that lies?
Lays useless, steady fruitless, on decline and yet divine?
Because I always feel Your spark
That ember
But I can’t feel me way through this September
And it isn’t even cold yet
Just wait until the sun sets

Just wait until the snow’s wet

Slush swish this way and that
I’m a skinny-tired bicycle on ice that is black
And if I could only get back—
Maybe I shouldn’t have left all
But I didn’t know then what I now know in the Fall
That come Winter, it’s impossible to thaw

PoetryGY HaneyPoetry, Verse, Fall, Winter