tonight time's wings fold.
you have taken the wind eastward
to the mountains
and my bed is still and wide.
at this time of night only the alone sit up.
my hand writes words to hold the spaces
you left,
but listen:
I can't seem to get the dimensions right;
you have taken the wind eastward
to the mountains
and my bed is still and wide.
at this time of night only the alone sit up.
my hand writes words to hold the spaces
you left,
but listen:
I can't seem to get the dimensions right;
no words can fill the distance of your voice.
***************
This was sent by a dear friend whose mere idea I have loved deeply...
2 comments:
Beautiful
Hello silentstorm314,
This reminds me of a warm, humid, August night, where the air is so thick you can cut it with a knife. I am remembering when I was about 12 or 13 living in the valley with the lightning bugs all around. Lying on my bed with the window open just trying to catch a quick, passing breeze.
Where does it take you?
Have you been to read my latest post?
And
I Dreamed It Was Real
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