the phone call came today, finally,
and though it's a month late
it made all the difference in the world

In October,
where the wind blows in stark,
cold breezes and where the trees shiver
and shed
upon these increasingly silent streets,
the world is infinitely bare
and autumn a gentle
murderer.

The lust ridden
spring with its vibrant greens
is gone. And where love once floated
unrecognized
--like sheer, white dandelion seeds
in bright, yellow ( Read more... )

The sky has been a fickle creature ( Read more... )

October. The wind blows in soft, stark breezes. The trees shiver and shed. 
Soon, all will be bare.

If I possessed even an ounce of courage, I would have called
and asked you--ever so eloquently--to come and bathe with me
under the rays of the sun

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss him in the weeping of the rain;
I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
And last year's leaves are smoke in every lane;
But last year's bitter loving must remain
Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide.
( Read more... )

'good' is an understatement ( Read more... )

Under the blazing sun, I watch as Montreal emerges from beneath its gentle white sheathe.
And a wonderful man who gives hugs to strangers is standing next to the Mont-Royal metro today. I plan to put on my boots and head his way soon.

Unfamiliar hugs can be surprisingly mending.

Adieu, mille fois bonne, mille fois chère, mille fois aimée

-The Portrait of Zélide

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