19 October 2022

first frost, oct '22


you do not tell your most sacred stories until the first frost

and always

in the dark


since 2004 internet searches for the word ‘anxiety’

have gone up 300%

but there is ‘wisdom in insecurity’

sitting with the unknown in the dark

on an empty stomach

while the world sleeps


too much summer

the leaves are crisp kindling

and the stories are delayed 

cold air in the morning

off-set by lung-tightening wild fire smoke at daylight


altered states are only useful

as long as they are just that


will i ever come back?

will we ever come back?


where there is perfection

where the known is set in stone


there are no stories to tell


just stagnant wild fire smoke

hanging in the valley

for an endless summer