Monday Poem: Seasons (Naga-Uta)

[Every Monday (until I run out of them), I’m posting a poem of mine that has fallen out from the submission process for some reason. In most cases, it will be one where I’ve received no response to my submission for at well over a year or more. Maybe the magazine I submitted them to has folded, the submission was lost in the post, or whatever. So, these poems can be seen as lost, orphans, of uncertain status, or something like that.]

These poems are also posted to ABCTales.

Seasons (Naga-Uta*)

Then, when the rain stops

and you step outside, to walk

once again, barefoot

over the wet grass, like that

long lost girl-woman

of innocent summer sex,

you remember how

we fell from fields of endless

summer, into this

slow stilted urban decay.

And wonder, wonder

why all these heaped mistakes

cannot be erased.

Time will move on, once again

leaving us behind.

As seasons fall down slowly

into stilled winter

and all its frozen promise

of dark days, will we

waste the mellow autumn years

lost in memory

regretting our lost summer

and the spring we never used?

*How to Write a Naga Uta