Traveling Companion
Three stars to the dream pierce
and I find you sitting there,
forlorn
absorbed
and lost in sickle thoughts
I rush to metal supermarkets
and bring you gifts of spirit,
paper roses
lead balloons
and melted ice in buckets
You laugh like rivers bubbling
over stones and odd appendages,
snapping,
pulling
yourself right out of silver dreams
I hold your hand in transit
from three stars to nowhere really
alone
with you
as we're half way now to sleep...
Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2006
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