Muddy Waters

Muddy Waters

The summer is vacating,
Its bags stacked
Against autumns open door
Leaving a wave of nausea,
An empty case of dreams,
Nothing to see here –

Just the grey sky
And the slow tick, tock
Of my indifference.
Eyelids heavy with
Some misleading sheep
Counted from afar.

I thought of it often;
Amidst the tall wheat sheaves
And sunflowers,
The trickle of water on stone,
Footsteps padding softly
On the smooth, tiled floor.

The cloying heat heavy in the air;
That stolen kiss,
And sunbeams laying against
Limbs darkly pretty
In bracelets and bathing suits,
Watching swallows in the skies.

Now I hold out my hand
And am offered nothing.
A monotonous trawl,
Weeks of this sickness.
A stream of boredom
Swelling like a lake,

The muddy waters pool
At my feet
With your fifty shades of wrong
Threatening to smother me,
Until I leave at dawn
And the water drains away.

36 lines