Without a thought or ounce of will
for certain, not as planned,
the beauty of another thrill
is making its demand.
How can I fall in love again
my heart has run this course?
And who would bet an also-ran,
a gray, uncertain horse?
A dirty trick for hopeless fools
is this October wind
that blows the sails and all the rules
but how can I pretend.
The evidence is plain to see,
I fall for you each night,
and when it’s dark-- and in between
those periods of light.
No comments:
Post a Comment