Another October

This month could be cold
it could burn
within itself, it’s always been
the carrier, the bird within
sky ladder, spring
loaded, protection
or how boughs fall.
I never began sitting alone
it was an unknown scene
between storm and night
full of people and birth
among bricks
past main roads and clouds
a time of paper bags
and plain string holding me up
in daylight indecision
yes, the storm
rain blossom on ground
as green, the walls
that are solid beside
the northern reaches
bridges, red tiles, false chateaux
guarding settled valleys
after a century restricted
there was yet to be music
just a trumpet and a drum
someone humming in shadows
birds again after rain.
And somehow I was plush
in blankets and evening
the morning, mother, father
if I’m the first
and it’s spring, feel the air
not yet weather beaten
the only mutiny, the sky
even now I’m hardly landed


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