i spend all year waiting for October.
the longing aches, so i busy myself.
distracted as i become, i realize
halfway through the month of October
that it's already come and gone.
i never learn to recognize
a good thing whilst i hold it,
only after it's passed on.
regret has roots deep in my heart,
ever-growing as i steady my gaze,
future or past, but god forbid present,
i only cherish what upon i reminisce.
i missed you before i knew you exist.