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!



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1 comment:

Rachel Mayer Walsh Schapiro said...

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