Thursday, January 30, 2014

Let Days Run Monotone In The Course of Times

Are you having a quality time?
Do you remember home at all?
Everywhere in the field,
I see skinny vines of your forehead,
the folded lines of stubbornness.
I know I's fussing too much,
"Perfect" love has no body in this country,
The New Mexico mulberry is turning to ash,
Are you sure
you must stay away?
Nature turns cold at midnight,
An abyss for some,
Flower garden for the rest,
I will walk toward green oblivion,
let its kindness lull me to Heaven!

1 comment:

Rachel Mayer Walsh Schapiro said...

i love my hometown people, but they might never understand me.