88.

The kiss of wind through
the window as lights blink past
teases in kisses.

87.

The taste of autumn
is beginning to settle
its warmth on me.

86.

I yearn to be freed
from these contrived passions
eluding solace.

85.

My mother's ghost sits
over my shoulder for this
anniversary.

84.

And the memory
holders come crawling back out
from their old boxes.

83.

What is matter in
a room full of decisions
long since given out.

82.

Overcast shadows
and dark skies raining. Oh, how
I have missed this place.