Balm After


(In response to Louise Glück’s October and All Hallows)

again and again

we’re planted every year

for what?

to fall in love? 

I get lost in the husks–

wheat and corn mazes

this is the barrenness

of october and still

there’s music

pools of it 

in gutters

collecting love and hay

packed into little cakes

again and again

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