benjamin gardner
writing:
selections from South Hill
selections from Phenomenology for Lovers
selections from Porch Hymnals
short story: the final day
selections from Porch Hymnals
pipe smoke dissipates and
reforms on some undisclosed porch
into your fragrance and your shape
around the town, up and down
autumn is the season of lovers
because caulked window panes
still know wind, and still feel
the rustle of leaves
how the hell are we all supposed to
stay warm at a time like this—
these thoughts and psalms
lull me to sleep, on a late night
porch
_____
I may never see
of consequence and
romanticism,
that which the night's light
chooses to show me
though, with all of
my being I want to.
your song is here, undiscovered
until tomorrow's sun.
_____
the deep, low
and sad whistle of
the train, no love
on this chill night, though
it seems to call
your name, over and
again, I'm your man
and will be no where at all
near you for the next eight
months, my reluctant nurse
with what seems like no cure
though we keep relying on fate
to bring us a life long companion,
I know not to want