Perfect Darkness

I love rainy fall evenings, when the air is crisp, and dusk descends at 7pm.
I love crawling into bed with a murder mystery in my hands and the shaggy dachshund at my feet.
It is most certainly autumn.

And I can’t help but think back on all the other autumns in my memory.

I remember the fall of 2005 that I started at St. Cloud State. On the very first day of classes, I got to campus much too early, because I was so nervous that I’d be late. I waited in the library and wrote in my black Moleskine journal. I still remember writing this poem each and every fall.

9.4.2005
leaves
only just
holding on
before descending
in a brisk and fervent
flight.

eyes deeply set
seeds in a ripe, ripe, fruit.
fermenting in the slow
and stagnant heat
of thought.

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