august nothing.

August nothing.

I will come back to you

Like English tea

Staining the cuff of your business shirt

Resembling a puddle neath

An insipid light

You will turn ever so slight

To see if I am there

& of course, I will not be

But my tousled spirit

Shall set you chin-down consumed

As I am far away

Behind a fog drift window

Near yellow-pink chrysanthemums

Lifting their chins to dear me it all

For it is much too late to not know

Some things certainly

Love plays like sunlit chords

-        When it ends, you are either inspired or

Long to be dead.

Puppet shows are for children, yes?