TASTE OF BUTTERNUT SQUASH
I remember the taste of butternut squash,
Your roasted words scorching brain cells
Its really hard to add one to two, resulting
In minus one, three just doesn't add up.
There is always something wrong, when
The moon plays coy, hiding behind clouds
The night sky chooses to define as highlights,
Shouldn't there be a beacon drawing threads
Desire once weaved? silently, arduously, continuously
There is no cheese what ever its colour, in the taste
Of moonlight, watching, as ships drift apart,
In a sea, salty as if filled from mere teardrops.
© gillena cox 2021
ENJOY THE MUSIC