Revision 10/3/2013
Where the clouds become the earth, the ground
swells and expels feral regrets.
Windows, shades and summers are trapped
beneath the tempest, waiting
to be born.
You encourage exploration –
endless questions placing culverts
for forgotten debris to block.
I sip again the nectar that
glistens at the corner of the hour.
Behind the curtains, tomorrow’s promise
melts feebly into soda, lime and
a slag of sorrow. Someone, somewhere,
forgets to press rewind.
Where the clouds become the earth, the ground
swells and expels feral regrets.
Windows, shades and summers are trapped
beneath the tempest, waiting
to be born.
You encourage exploration –
endless questions placing culverts
for forgotten debris to block.
I sip again the nectar that
glistens at the corner of the hour.
Behind the curtains, tomorrow’s promise
melts feebly into soda, lime and
a slag of sorrow. Someone, somewhere,
forgets to press rewind.
Quote:Revision 3/3/13
Where the clouds become the earth, the ground
swells and expels its savage regrets.
Windows, shades and summers are trapped
beneath the tempest, waiting
to be born.
You encourage exploration –
endless questions placing culverts
for forgotten debris to block,
and the light from your eyes
is a drop in the glass
reflecting on yesterday’s mockingbird mime
and a crystal decanter of sky
I sip again the nectar that
glistens at the corner of the hour.
Behind the curtains, tomorrow’s promise
melts feebly into soda, lime and
a slag of sorrow. Someone, somewhere,
forgets to press rewind.
Quote:Original
Where the clouds become the earth, the ground
swells and expels its savage regrets.
Windows, shades and summers are trapped
beneath the tempest, waiting
to be born.
You encourage exploration –
endless questions placing culverts
for forgotten debris to block,
and how can I keep looking inside
when there’s nothing to see but the light from your eyes
reflecting on yesterday’s mockingbird mime
and a crystal decanter of sky?
I
sip again the nectar that
glistens at the corner of the hour.
Behind the curtains, tomorrow’s promise
melts feebly into soda, lime and
a slag of sorrow. Someone, somewhere,
forgets to press rewind.
It could be worse