Brilliant fall colors
Brilliant fall colors
The curious nature
of passion took hold
of his personality
he picked daisies
while on long walks
and pondered over things
he’d never thought
about before, like
longing or blue paint on canvas
or a dark eye-lash
on a bright
white shirt
Speaking to others
he became charged with
emotion and
bursts of anger were
not unexpected
He read
about the small town
calling his name
screaming without
interruption or
glory or dignity
What others
called an
hallucination was
his everyday reality,
or lack of reality,
or living with too much
reality
To him seconds
lasted days, and
days lasted months
and months
the
waiting as painful
as sand in your shoes
and later
glass under your feet
Near the end
he stayed on the
farm, the estate, in his
minds eye
Muttering to himself
useless ideas staying
out of the shadows
and the shade of
quercas rubra
When they speak
of him now they
respect his curious
nature, but can’t
imagine