Season's End

 Season's End

Meeting here in this place
On a night like tonight beside
The raging sea
Highway shouting down from
Above like a roaring, idiot god...

Your face illuminated
By dumb headlights,
Pale and ugly with
Sorrow-smeared make-up

No words left for us, My Love,
Not one...

Wind tearing your hair
Ripping the saw-grass beneath our feet,
Hurling trash left by tourists long gone

Meeting here in this place
Tonight, the last night,
Weary, crushed, and bleak,
In the rags of faith

No words left for us, My Love,
Not one...

In the end, we stumble home through
A cold world, numb with pain, broken like
Dolls, to lie on a hard bed

Gazing silently, desperately at the ceiling,
Waiting all night for something to happen,
While blaring bullhorns broadcast the
End of the world through empty streets

No words left for us, My Love,
No words at all...


-Frank H. Weeden

Sept. 16, 2009 (1990)