Alone in the Last Days of Summer

These angelic days,
where I feel you near me,
ache with August.

Each sunflower
personifies years
of endless summer
and your breath constantly humming
at the base of my mind.

I am wandering again,
solitary as a stone,
in this new path of loving
all the nights.

The texture of another autumn
harangues the heat and is squandered
on copper and gold leaves
plummeting to the ground.

My body opens like a cloud of aspersions,
always the antagonist in my own poetry.

If only we could trace the corners of these thoughts
with enough time to heal everything we have ever wanted.
If only time wasn't so mighty.