|
| |
dew of the willy wag-tail
You sure don't care,
of the willy wag's
tail flickering,
a glorious
morning,
in
opposition
to burning trees,
a desolation
held so fast,
burning embers
flickering hands
casting out
those flames...
a fire-starter,
whose time begins,
this sick-ness
is the air
we breathe
and try to forgive.....
our sins
and theirs,
and the dark is here
as the flood-lights,
illuminates new-born skies
to eliminate past cries..
Copyright ©
Ryan Geoffrey Hayward
|
|