Written by: Yolanda Jones

when we were lovers time stood still over that old barn facing the diner sign that seemed to record my echo
 above the whispering hushes that borrowed time amidst the faint sound of a coo coo clock awaiting the maids to carry the milk over the full grown men sawing wood beneath dancing clogs apon red cobblestone I was quite taken by the hidden telly covered in colorful leaves craving my nakedness over 
looking Russian tanks tucked away in kremlin arms