Wednesday, December 5, 2007


listening to the chattering winds countries away

it's the closest we could ever get

to finding each others signs again

on a raised hillside smiling

snaking between the crescent moon

rhythmically waves the slow hope of a windmill

drifting between the blinking light and darkness

watching the shade invading your delicious grin

with one hand you cover your eyes

and mimic the broken backed gait of grief

felt by the final return

of your body's betrayal

as you lay your heavy head under those spinning arms

that slowly so slowly

and forever

wave goodbye

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