A window a mirror and a mire
Meet up on a star in my mind
Thinking can do that to you sometimes
Where I stand apart from them
Now and then and stare back
Watching the world-I go by
Like a mother with her children
By noon the heat of the sun
Has come down far enough
To meet the uprising trees and grass
To have lunch together in the park
It must be March if memory reaches
Out for the flowers of the future
Tearing pieces from the sun
So thinking can go on
No comments:
Post a Comment