Raymond Soulard, Jr. New Songs (for Kassandra) - The ...

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Inner Autumn
The leaves hang humbly upon their branch
till midnight strikes
and it’s a rush into an eavestrough
a sudden downpour of pecans
a secret rebellion of outer niceties
it’s all hell breaks loose while the townfolk sleep
Then early to rise and the smile glues to the face
the pecans show themselves pie
the rooftops glisten from the dance of leaves
Inside, I weep with the tears of death
life purges life
cycles forge ahead
What was sunny and bright
loops into gray, dull routine
the crunch of my feet, the sideswiping snail
all loathe to admit what’s so clearly amiss
My heart stagnates—a beat of emptiness
steady, empty, steady, heavy
the cloak of habit covers my sighs
where am I?
Have I fallen into a loop of duty
my artist gone into hibernation
my inner saint off to an ashram
where?
I trudge through this day
crying for my inner joy
where have I gone?
The Cenacle | 59 | October 2006