October and Spice

Sky becomes smoked glass
October spice the air
a glow in the eastward
burning the warning home

Never is there welcome
Only outside for Him
The stranger straggles by
calling on your hospice

Golden grass well willing
fire bursting at its bones
petrol comes to quickness
the start one spark alone

Eyes in envy wanting
you to know of his wounds
A common sort of ruin
Communes our avarice

Sky still as the smoke glass
October burnt alder
Your loss not from malice
But forging you the same

Dreams becoming the hero
this stunted man believes
Need with no voice to speak
also the one to blame