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Emily Connell

seasons come November
June July August

just as they go
September October

stealing away
like midnight tide
off into the darkness
somewhere
they must go

November December
for nothing can go but nowhere

January
where is that place
deep within the recesses

of ethereality
a deferential reality

“somewhere within my mind”
some say
but they fool themselves
how can so much

exist
but only inside my head
surely it cannot
be but mere
speculatory guesswork
attempts at understanding
what not

given
for understanding

off into another space
perhaps more than one

exists

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