(no subject)

I had poetry in my heart
and in my mind
and in my fingertips
    before I went to trim them and
    the mundane task
    relieved me of my fantastical bent
but it was there
waiting like the first
breath of fall; excited
to begin blowing thoughts
of crisp autumn
and the inevitability
of costuming and Halloween
    which I will never be too old
    to observe
    in all its front-porch glory
and the winter snows
which will make
staying inside for labs
more desirable.

It was there
    and still is
and is now only represented
by the tingling in my nerves
the goosebumps on my skin
that drive me to don again
the college sweatshirt
that I once bought
    for fifty dollars
to escape the rain
that beat down upon
the campus mercilessly
    even though we are supposedly
    protected by a saint-child's bones--
    that only covers wind and rain
    and not downpours
sometimes I think
it's still wet.

Bells do ring in Galesburg too.
I anticipate them with new growth
in my eyes.