A chill approaches as evening sneaks in,
here to soon, here for another round of
dishes pouring out, cake half eaten,
will it dry out?

I can no longer feel my toes
aching from the cold, no shoes.

I uncover old, dusty words
my voice, my youthful passion,
a flicker, a sudden move, it stops

I stop chasing…

Bicycle concerts down dirt roads
creekside vigils,
demons laid to rest.
Hand-truck drumkits
pounding my heart out.

Dewberry summers,
blue face,
blue tongue,
blue dog.