Grave it his all

The closing lodestone is, unfortunately, exactly as advertised
We were hoping for some tumbling anomaly
Perhaps a feather wafting or a grain sinking
It could represent the end of fall
The end of all

We may have whispered hard
Who knows: Back in '86
Dose: The paper-mate wisdom afforded by forged oranges
Trace: Purely a northern distraction
This too, out of edge of eye, reminiscent

A smile will, of course, wash this all away
A miner is a stranger
A strange pilgrim aside a pig
A grade cravings all too busy for laughter mixing
A!

Basement lodgings paste rubber satchel
The trunk of swollen historical neverminds
We as an alternative to hiding
Gets a fetching drove from time's merchant
Long overdue, the socks are wet

I'd like to zoom in a little further
If you'll indulge my footprints
Haven from the outboard risks
Miles of twitching
Only standing still ask visuals

This draft is borne of a liking
A glance of indifference only in snapshot
Dodging frightened light
Finding mist
And a fine layer of dust to authenticate

Might we slash again
Might we repeat for it's own sake
May I dote until red dawn
May I please have another
Sure comes an answer from the flame