Sunday, October 03, 2004

Harmonica

Through the viscous urban streets
Dancing like a dream unleashed
Up the stairs and through the door
Roped in silence to the floor
Gliding, hazed and barely felt
The mist of rain from winter pelt
Settling in warmth before the fire
To the call of the harmonica.

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After a busy day when confronting admin

 We must all come  Find ourselves And we will all be found Regardless  As the sun finds the morning As breath finds the lungs As I am found ...