Tuesday, June 29, 2010

                                   photo by colby

Strange light, all dappled and demure
Too shy to come out of your room
Too soon is when you thought you were old
Safety in numbers within calculations
Is the way you operate
You frustrate those who help you
We live here, we like it here
they say, as they run others out of town
Which leaves us with the land
and the heart and the death and taxes
The birds circle overhead.
The flowers are growing in the spring
The saltiness in the air soothes
And snaps you awake
It holds promise
Like a sunrise, children
And love.

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