October
with her I once saw a place
god left undecided
me -- slack jawed and far from
familiar shores, where water laps
with terrifying patience and
reverent stones bow
their bathing heads
her – speaking to me in
Octobers tone, saying this world is good
and to live is the better
choice, but there were other words
from other voices
the canyon yawned went slack and
slumbered below, incurious to the
ghost choices I had to make, and
drifted dumbly until
it broke upon the bend, aghast awake
awoken like an angry child, its chasm caterwaul
piercing with beauty
born anew.
(the commotion was yet another voice)
with her I could not chose, and left
it undecided.
