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Guest Column

Seth's Poem - 'The Four Seasons'
By Seth
Sep 6, 2013 - 1:49:33 AM

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The Four Seasons:


Standing in the field where you left me.
The clouds are tearing.
The weeds are rippling.
I'm still.
The wind tickles my face.
Disturbs the leaves.
Dishevels my hair.
I would care about all of this
if you were still here.
The trees scratch each other.
What remaining leaves fall
with a final gale.
If you were still here
I'd offer you my coat.
It's the same coat I gave you last time.
Gray. With buttons AND a zipper
(something you found hilarious)
Some late birds are heading South.
You'd have pointed them out to me,
because I'd be too focused on
concealing my racing heart.
And I'd tell you
how I also love the birds.
And I do.
But I wish you loved me
the way you loved the birds.


I used my gift money-
the account for you-
on myself.
So here I am...
In a cafe...
with three hundred dollars worth of food...
which I'm still unsure how to use.
The large black coffee is for me.
I think you compared me to coffee once.
'Bitter, but worth it.'
I would've taken the booth
we both liked so much,
but someone else is using it to make the same
So much for poetics.
(Running out of room on this napkin...)
But in a way, I'm glad the booth was taken.
The wide window makes it cold...
and I'd only miss you.


The snow is still around.
I almost got in an accident
when I let my mind drift a little too far
and the car started to drift with it.
Can't wait till the gravel washes away with the rain.
I saw you yesterday
at the bookstore.
I've been trying to avoid it.
I thought about saying hi,
getting your attention;
I got anxious
and suddenly I was right back in that field.
This is gonna sound weird but
I don't love you anymore.
I only miss you.
Or my stomach misses you, at least.
Because that's what hurts
when my heart is supposed to.
I can't even remember
the last time I felt an emotion...
Or is hunger an emotion?
When was the last time I ate?
I can't remember that,


I need to find someplace air-conditioned.
Craig Miller said it's the hottest summer
since some obscure date.
All of my facts like that
come from that weatherman.
turns out those facts
that impressed you
aren't as weird or random as you'd thought.
But it's whatever...
I don't love you anymore.
I don't miss you either.
Right now, I don't need love,
or contact,
or food, or a booth.
What I need
is air-conditioning.
and peace of mind.
You linger on everything.
On my jacket.
The field.
The cafe.
The bookstore.
This town-
this whole goddam town
is stained with you.
I can't scrub you from everything.
But maybe...
if I left...
before Autumn rolls around again...
I could scrub you from the back of my eyes.

"Seth grew up in Sabattus, Maine. He is currently a senior at Oak Hill High School. His plan is to one day be an engineering geologist."

Seth was introduced to us by published author Martha Stevens-David. We hope that Seth will continue to share his poetry with our readers, for they will certainly enjoy it. If any reader wishes to write to Seth they may do so c/- R.P. BenDedek or c/- Martha

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