Friday, April 4, 2008
waiting for you
several solar sigils blink out
passing into the low clouds below
this has happened several thousand times now
at the place where she raised her willowy arms above the horizon
leaving tender branches broken in the sudden wind
and you hum like a hurricane
such a sweet melody of regret
withering on the watchful burning breeze
her collaboration with the sixth sense
as midnight slowly stabs its way under the door
and drips between rows of overturned earth outside
on the cruel frozen farmland
we once called home.
you are a song.