Morning Pages

A day and twelve years
finds the moment
stretching
out the windows
down the slate grey streets
towards the dawn

The sun creeps out
from behind
the cover of clouds
and lazy Sunday
thoughts

Pause for tea
first flush
darjeeling
and
sharpening
the points

Autumn
knocks
the pain
all slanted shadows
and apple biting breezes

The last words
 not an afterthought
but the long moment
 as my lover
walks away

words

 stream

down 

my cheeks

ink

bleeds

through 

the page

my tears
taste
like paper