The thing about nature
Which has always seemed
Otherworldly to me a dream
Is that it keeps repeating
Itself over and over again
Like a skipping heart-beat
Stuck in the middle of the song
So I guess hawks were born and the larks
Of reason the old logical crows
Who are still in charge of time
Who come to rule the eagles above the bay
Who give back to the sky a sense
Of some integrity at least
As it passes us by
No comments:
Post a Comment