Nicole Mē | Original Poetry | Original Spoken Word Poetry

I don’t know what it is about

October

How slyly the incoming course of

nature discovers obscuration

When man or woman has plotted

a very good back trail

Into woods where darkness

transcends sunrise where small

beats lay beaten and no pulse

bothers the morning

That place

A kind of agreement with yesterday

that it might be best this way

And we do it well

Really, it’s called living

Then the month that announces the

horizon

just feels that it can govern

And so many lovers are sent in

October

So much hope arrives in tow

with a steam train, on a platform,

that is always looking like a vintage

frame

saying: this was my plot and the

script was well known

What a good film we would have

made

But you came in this month, in this

ever conundrum

Please leave.Please come again.