furiously grey with morning sleep
that didn't come rain
full of hip-hop drum
beat on pavement bass
mock to my discontent
hissssssssss
on the coal
smoke from the chimneys
when I saw the sparrow
my tears fell hard
soft
as the pile of feathers
cold on the dead ground
until nothing was dry
something had died -
O love,
where is your hand?
No comments:
Post a Comment