saturnalia scratching at the door
mooring with the tides
surfactanting my hide
only brings blood
to my worn eyes
whereas I might feel
time steeped as tea
in glory steamed
and memory horded
for the rain that
I love to listen to
beneath the broad
canopies of trees
in deep deciduous Summer
I know love
fears as little or
as much as I do
when faces turn insane or
explain how I might be
following nothing
but my heart
I've set on fire
making wishes
in all the
goodbyes
I float by
on the postcards
by my bedside
waiting to dance
with the dawn
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r-ik1KBfEQo&feature=relmfu
No comments:
Post a Comment
Hello there ...