fall is coming rain and chill
dusk colored hot spice
and your blonde turns red
shinning silver to one’s breath
walking barefoot like a tiger
you serve wonders for desert,
twenty something miles ashore
where your blue turns green
feels like seventeen once again,
the young shapes on the floor
unless knees are bruised on fire
can’t spell ire form desire,
and we are fast driving
but I still need more –
a supernova in a winter storm
wild dancing and changing form
giving life to amazing chaos
filling up the heart and soul
without rhythm and control
bringing music to the whole,
is a spark I could call love…