october

a silky motion of coolness moving in to me,
following me.
and though i turn my head often,
back and forth and back,
i can't see it.
i won't ever see it.
these aches compress time,
impress the hurt upon me,
and they stick.
the large question being from me, posed to myself,
and the answer being nowhere to be found.
the grass, the trees.
the light cradled in branches.
my young heart gets lost, my young heart just dances.
i will never be pleased.
and so i stumble along,
looking for some giant evergreen to hide me.