I have a simple sphere
To sell you while I'm here.
The earth abhors the stars
And turns,
Singing
"You didn't see
That was coming from me.
I love the light on these
Trees. I love knowing
I am not me." The birds
Whistle as if the monkeys believed
The good God of birds
Spat birdseed.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.