October Weeps

OCTOBER WEEPS
(In Loving Memory of My Poet-Friend, J.T.)

I follow the unlit road
tucked within hilly blindfolds
to the place you once lived.
You're gone two months now,
seasons pass unceremoniously.
Though summer to autumn
fall lightly as clockwork,
you lay on me heavy tonight.

I need to see the dim light
from your window,
the Ford pick-up waiting
for you at the curb.
I want to hear your voice
stuttered yet steady
sing somber Cohen songs
you've left me humming.
I want to snatch up the poems
strung from high leafy branches...
We laughed about this years ago.

Your house is all blackness,
old pick-up hauled off,
the music stops inside my head.
Trees stand solemn witness,
all too quiet and bare.
Dry leaves skitter
across the dark roadway
like ashes,
unwritten poems
these leaves.

(10/5/05)