October’s chill is in the autumn air,
the time of year we question fragile love,
while sitting under starry skies above
and vaguely verbalize how much we care.
Our hearts are no less filled with fiery flare,
yet melancholy shows its flightless dove.
A pain beyond our bliss now stands above
and readies love to meet its deep despair.
This was a ruse, unkind, as in the past,
a masochistic tale we’re forced to tell.
While two thirds of the year flew swiftly fast,
we face one third, a lonely living hell.
Until March, when, again, we’ll meet at last,
reality demands we bid farewell.
COPYRIGHT 2001 by Michael Bonanno
LOC Reg. #TXu 988-155
Reproduction of “Farewell”
or any part therein
without the express
written permission of
Michael Bonanno is
prohibited unless the
reproduction meets The
Copyright Act “fair use”
doctrine, (title 17, U. S. Code)..