bye bye

Summer's yawning August days are slowing

the rhythms have snagged

blooming is dying 

daying is nighting

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Just a glimpse

The pen must have shook in his old hands. 

In a coffee shop on an unremarkable Monday was a flyer folded and forgotten on a chair. Between coupons for free home security and a community church were cursive words: did you know that I am a very poor man? I didn't see my family, my kids.

Where did he go? Did anyone care or know the old man reading a flyer with a pen in his hand?

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I don't have much tonight

I am tired as hell

been watching the summer burn out 

dead leaves falling

it goes like that

life and then nothing

laughter to silence

bright pink blooms to black

but we get it all back

this will happen again

it goes like that