feelin like stardust
a half carton
from being home
(a shoulder strap
from being known)
thursday's remorse
is a friday's gain
when hallows wax
the orange and black game
theories of
history
in color
as if its
second nature
to know
yet first comes
like lilies grow
a puddle
a reflection
not seen
taxing tea
as if unloading
is ordinary
with rebuke comes
separation
and every reason
not to follow through
because blood
is just growing pains
a saddle
dusty before age
this is
the ride of way