Tuesday, October 1, 2019


Photo by Dimitar Donovski


Tiptoe Tiptoe
You crept into my nature,
Like an escalated stare.
I want to feel your rise.
With my veneration,
I could make candles out of you,
Scorch away two seasons.
On the verge of autumn,
I am as willing as your whisper
To take the fall and make it ours.
My reverence for your words
Pounds like your glowing heart
Beneath me, burnt orange
Leaves, take me there.

David-Matthew Barnes

This poem is featured in the poetry collection Souvenir Boys.