Sunday, September 9, 2012

you are a strange melody
following, following me
a puppy without a leash
down and down the
through the streets and the window
you wag your tail
and graze my legs
settling like a stash of rags.

and oh my bones
how they yearn
for your song to take its turn
haunt me haunt me incessantly
to the grave of creativity
where i rise where i rise
oh you are relentless spies
picking out my hair, my clothes
old torchons and dictionaries
begging for attention.

a siren call in the snow
underneath the stone cold
so sad the passage of time
a tragedy engraved in rhyme.

No comments:

Post a Comment