October tiptoed so gently, coming with fall
kissing the apples to red, singeing the leaves
with scarlet and brown; in yellow she rose
me from sleep with foggy fingers poking me right
from my bed into bitterness rain; she made me a pile
of cotton and wool dancing her into the gale.
October came with widdershin winds, as a gale
shredding canopies, wrecking branches to fall
into havoc; in her wake leaving streets piled
up with rubble, pages torn from his books and leaves
tumbling and sticking to wetness of asphalt, but right
afterwards heaven just cleared and the shy moon rose.
October was the lofty light skies and the rose
clinging right at the edge of its living: it was a gale
of lightheaded laughter from a gaggle of girls right
outside the librarian’s window; now when it’s fall
he is apple cheeked, smiling and he leaves
the cobwebs and dust on pages he’s piled.
October is the lady (too loud) with hair in a pile
of seaweed wearing a corduroy smock and rose-
colored glasses collecting from maple leaves
shades of the summer that passed with a gale
and a sigh. She is end and beginning, the fall
from a blessing, a curse of always been right.
October is driving a bike, sharp turning right
at the edge of the cliff, hoping not ending up piled
up as debris left after the apple tree’s windfall;
She’s Ophelia’s corpse in stagnant water, the rose
left at his doorstep from a leftover lover. She’s a gale
of woodwind and drums, a presence that leaves.
October is a book he was reading turning the leaves,
but forgetting each word — the ultimate fright
of losing his sense, the whirlwind, the gale
in his bloodstream a book burning craze, his junkpile
of thoughts, the falsehood of demons who rose
claiming his thinking; she’s death and his downfall.
October is leaves on his grave, a book pile he left
(not read), his birthright to rise, a rose on his desk
the gale arriving at nightfall with boots on his feet.
When you write a sestina you are never really ready, I feel I could polish this one for ever. But I post it for OLN at dVerse. I might polish it more before the pub is closed. Also linking up to Tuesday platform at toads