all the little things of love i never told her

in the kitchen   i'm still a boy   listening to women
lipstick scrawled on the bedroom     mirror
cigarettes burning in ashtrays      unanswered 

phone
he sings a love song            to no one
a sickle moon cuts through           the dark to the other side

for each forgotten "thing" a crow screams 
dead black leaves fall into my pacing   piling up
full moon         so much to be said in the silence

deer licking a salt block in slow fat strokes
sullen stranger at my back door you take my yellow breath 
away      low tide            all my sins revealed

left-handed i write upside down scuttling across the sea floor
footprints still trying to get there       long after I've gone
he talks about the weather     geese overheard

cutting my white hair in a hospital room 
snow            drifting on the widowsill
a single red leaf follows me everywhere

it wants to tell me more about autumn   he says i must
fall asleep on the ground as long as it takes 
the cold will give me answers