Rain

Saturday

My jazz band
played last night
at the racecourse.

There was this girl
done up and
ready for
the night
who waited for
one hour
maybe more.

She made a
call
cried
and left.

Not wanted.

I then realised
the irony that
we were playing
The Dead
Leaves.

Later that night
events happened
and I too
felt not
wanted.

The difference being
There was no
Autumn Leaves
for me.

Post-101.

Astro

None of my plants will grow.

I'm saving up
an orchard
of yellows,
and reds,
and blues,
except it's too
cold for
anything to
grow.

This city
is dead
but I'll keep
on moving
as long as my feet
will carry me
home.

The lottery
hasn't been won
yet because
my foot
is stuck in the door
(halfway between)
hope and despair,
(halfway between)
love and fear,
(halfway between)
input and output,
isn't that where
the pleasure
lies?

The soil
is dry and
nothing will grow
no blacks,
or greys,
or golds.

My pockets
are empty
but I'll keep
on moving
as long as my feet
will carry
me.