Autumn’s Equations

The gambles of the year when towers fell,
when change came and loss ruled summer’s court;
That autumn’s equations were always going to be skewed.

Time and chance and blustery days,
and while flowers grow in autumn’s park,
autumn’s gamesters deal from stacked decks.

Perspex algebra of emotion;
bust one, bust all.

All that’s left – shuffle the cards once more, roll the hard six;
solitaire a game ironcast giants have no patience for.

Would that we had not played,
and were instead
still talking.


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