Shaped like the fields
They fly through
Missed by the lightnings
That decend from fiery sky
Wander the grassy knolls
Without ever wondering why
Fortune pricks the pastures
Teachers in the green
Beneath their summer highhats
The animals covert themselves
In tiny fodder tents
Innoccents in cells.
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Fatherhood
I am carrying the torch you Handed me Not handed. Placed Carefully This is sacred space. Was the carrying so heavy for you as well? Were yo...
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It must have been love That sort of thing Can't be mistaken For a lesser set of feelings It has a special hat And makes you welcome at p...
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She shares the blame For Adam's fall So secure, attractive Brilliant in a certain view The essence of Enlightenment I see her raise her ...
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I’m tired I’m tired of my heart giving out Whenever it gives in That things being the same Never makes a difference Of looking forwards to s...
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