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 upon 
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