Written In Autumn
They want another love poem,
something about roses in spring
or summer, but never in winter,
when leafless branches dance
in cold wind, like skeletons
in grainy black and white cartoons,
and fingers are patient as earthworms,
digging into solitude
to find the kind of touch
that turns pages red from paper cuts,
but never passion,
while we lie to ourselves about our loneliness
being watered from being too scared
to look at the blue eyes,
who saw the dirt beneath our fingernails,
and still smiled.
Empty as Your Abandoned Heart
A stranger nonchalantly tries the front door,
knob cold against a hand
that doesn't worry about wearing a glove
or the last sounds a lock makes
before it dies.
The family photos left to dust, and no one
argues over belongings or who gets the house-
the retirement you bragged about
murdered by the silence that inherited your home,
just like you killed hours with outdated sitcoms,
but at least you made sure to make your bed
on the last day of your life.
And the dresser drawers are dumped
first, looking for money, jewelry,
anything unwanted of value,
while the closets are full of clothes
that'll never be filled again.
Richard LeDue (he/him) currently lives in Norway House, Manitoba. He is a Best of the Net nominee. His first chapbook was released in 2020, and a second chapbook in 2021. As well, his third chapbook, “The Kind of Noise Worth Writing Down,” was released in October 2021 from Kelsay Books.
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