inspirational poem halting place

Here, evening mist has nothing to hold
but the trees. Autumn has not yet plucked
the last of the leaves. For me, it’s that time
of day, that time of year, when poems come.

Oh, that ache to be here, to be heard. Surely, soon.

You relieve it with love, always did. My dear,
I saw how you picked up his scarf on our way
out, the old one you said he won’t wear
any more. I see you wearing it now, worn side in.

* * *

For as little as $2 a month, you can become a poetry patron and receive books and other bonuses and exclusive poetry written just for you. 

If you enjoyed this post, please let me know on my Facebook page or via Twitter. And… if you have some likeminded friends, I’d love for you to share it with them. Thank you!