Early Winter

It was
a desire to be desired
a fear of the alone.
Yes. (confused) Both.
And, what do you mean;
Tomorrow begins Autumn?
Sure, it is September,
But, I know what you are feeling…
It is Winter.
I have already dried your leaves, and
You have blown them away.

Eary Winter II

I look into her eyes
two ink blots
I see my mother
I see butterflies
I see bats
They're coming to bleed my dry.
I have no fear now.
I only know that I'm bled dry.
I only know that I'm bled dry.
It is winter.
So cold.

© tony baldwin

art of tony baldwin - a book of poetry and art