Losing You

by Patrick Pomeroy You sashayed to the train without hurry Without the warning of your familiar, incremental Adjustments not inches away from me Winter sauntered up to the fading din of erudite summer Conversations with its laughter and predictable drunken Guffaws of situational guests lingering from autumn to fall I couldn’t be still or breathe regularly with the brushfire of Your ink black hair strewn in my bed, kindled from the same Tears that had doused out our smolder Smitten, our bodies the hottest vines, the tightest twist In our summer garden What was without all the predictable, routine trappings … Continue reading Losing You