the rider's bones
clattered and
clanked behind
a dusted horse
on the cobbled
empty streets
awash with the
early rains that
brought us all
this gloom..
in this, the last
of our seasons.

here is where
i long to stand
undeserving to
witness even
a glimpse,
i have
prodigiously,
wasted its beauty.

yet i have
dragged through
pained days,
searched and
scoured through
this bleeding
heart, just to
make it
back home.

trembling at
the abyss
overwhelmed
by trepidation
and wonderment,
paralyzed by
this beleaguered
choice.

i harrow
the barren
soil of
these days
to find nary
a word
or thought,
to sprout forth
anything from
the unyielding
earth of my
frozen pneuma.

the rains
came fast
and hot.
washing all
our dreams
tangled
on the ends
of their
pitiful
little ropes,
swaying from
the belabored
boughs.

the winds
rattled the
splintered
rafters in
the washed
out belfry.
tolling faintly,
the bell
for all
our wicked
imbecility.
and our
mesmerized
benefaction
fooled by
our own
gadgetry.