Tell me when you’re coming
so I can sweep the leaves from my door;
Autumn’s gold cascade has left
a taste of melancholy on my lips
outside the garden sheds its yearly pride
and pear tree’s bone branches point
their fingers to eternity.

Tell me when you’re coming
so I can paint bright shadows to seduce,
reminisce my summer smiles, tie a knot in
spring’s synopsis of youth, amalgamate last
winter’s snow-capped thawing,
wash this city’s pale tiara
face fallen wishes trampled underfoot.

Turn my thoughts from vestiges of decay
so we can stare into a bright night of stars
unchain Andromeda from her rock
tune into the language of the spheres,
remember spirit’s brought us to this place
and silence is the only gap I can’t cross
to bring me to you.