On the contented fields
tiled with jigsaw puzzle
leaves - cue-cured by burning hues
where flaming dreams wander by
unlit-candle starry skies -
a day lecher never winks.
But flawed October teardrops,
crowded around faulty rifts,
pass the lines of discontent
furrowed into the ancient
brow of memories relived.
Feet feelings die by inches.
Enthusiasm falters
under the last mournful gaze
of quail eggs, whose longing
smothers calculated broods.
Clever sings in its own ears.
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