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I regret having already missed the fall
winter encroaching its dark hood
at 5 o' clock.
On subway cars, contented lovers sleep
in the crutch of each other's shoulder,
as I cast closed eyes into false memory
of islands nestled intimate in sea-song.
But here the city is holding
its breath along the shivering spines
of trees. Businessmen, like soldiers,
fight billowing trenchcoats,
polished shoes marching down Bay Street.
We become unsexed at this dim hour.
The grounded maple leaves have layered
Queen's Park like a bored child's pāpier-maché.
I would have succumbed to this weathered
exhaustion but for the sumac's unreal red;
I would have let myself sink into this inconsolable
season but for the girl with marmalade hair
who danced barefoot leaping summer around
a ringed November pond, lean arms flailing ecstasy
against this asphalt month.
I regret having already missed the fall
by Nashira Dernesch
NOTES:
Appeared in the chapbook,
It's no
secret you'll feel better
May 2007.
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