| |
Sounds of a day dispersed
Clawing at the doors
Windowless shops barrage
Their straight images on printed faces
Bedsheets of yesterday grope
Seamless skin wondering
About moods and ruminations
Clouds unravel before they start
As thin toast barely starts the morning
The urge to shift settles groundwise
While gypsy radio pulses truncate
Asking for your improvement
And glide away before you start
I'm settling in the thick skin of dirt roads
That I know wind back around to the same path
|