some days i wake and wonder
will this day hold me close
will this day call me by my name
so many days
arrive
and find all sorts of ways
in which to depart
and then some stand up and fling their arms out to the side
to draw me in
fill me with their own fullness
and end with the gentlest glance-over-the-shoulder sunsets
that leave the soft ache of wistfulness
and hopefulness
all at the same time
-
"you were really saying something
when you called me by my name
let's get out in a ghost town
then you can call it out again
five years ago, half of the world disappeared
No comments:
Post a Comment