Nagoya
By Hannah Six
You always ignored the rancor
of autumn—instead
it inspired respect.
You always forgot that
your cool skin could whisper,
and suggested
a silent farewell.
On that November day
beyond Nagoya, maples
bare, mundane
stars above—you
seemed to draw on
the dispassion
of autumn
in deciding which
stories to tell.
Now it's April
and sweet, here
beyond Nagoya—
blossoms rain and
the maples
have leaved.
I've almost forgotten how
your cool skin
would whisper,
and accepted
your final farewell.
(c) 2017, by Hannah Six
(Inspired by the lyrics to April in Paris)
By Hannah Six
You always ignored the rancor
of autumn—instead
it inspired respect.
You always forgot that
your cool skin could whisper,
and suggested
a silent farewell.
On that November day
beyond Nagoya, maples
bare, mundane
stars above—you
seemed to draw on
the dispassion
of autumn
in deciding which
stories to tell.
Now it's April
and sweet, here
beyond Nagoya—
blossoms rain and
the maples
have leaved.
I've almost forgotten how
your cool skin
would whisper,
and accepted
your final farewell.
(c) 2017, by Hannah Six
(Inspired by the lyrics to April in Paris)
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