October Again

You steal my seasons
and fill them with emptiness
not memories; but this every vision is Yours
anything everything that has been With You
without you is empty.
now, autumn, autumn is October
you walking across the lawn in the night
not knowing not understanding then or since
not knowing the meaning
but even when you did not understand
it was preferable to you not being here at all.
as I wear a false bravado or silence
hearing everyone's misunderstandings
as they call it by other names.

But as in the misunderstandings it seems so odd
that each stands with heart-in-hand
proclaiming its ownership by Only One--
yet failing to recognize the same in me.

Amazing, isn't it, the Losses I bear
due to cowardice.

And there have been mistakes force stupidity weakness and pain
of devils and angels, the good the bad the insane
words mattering little
for each had in common:
they were not you.

With you, what has there been
but each moment no matter how significant
void of hope, void of promise,
each to be held to savor to capture in time
knowing there was nothing beyond it

And although there have already been too many mornings without you
you continue to steal my seasons
reflecting each moment only in its emptiness.