‘Tell me whose men ye are, ' he says,
‘Or whose men that ye be;
Who gave you leave in this Cheviot chase
In the spite of mine and of me? '
Look...See how long nights are drawing in.
Dreary birdsong gradually abates -
Opaque dusk grows dim;
And just outside the creaky little garden
coconut pulp snow spots on the brown wilted meadow
as feet soak in the chestnut boots sinking in the onyx soil
I listen for the rosewood calls of the red-winged blackbirds
it's another day and the sun decides to sleep in
the hidden hazel lost in her eyes, hanging by a moment
I've been trying to write some darkness
but there's a junco on my shoulder
so just when the shadows start to bend,
like snakes along a shaken earth
Sweet balcony boxwoods stand tall, dressed for a party,
exploding in feathery blooms, a bajillion stamens
loosing pollen to ride a rough morning wind
to the farthest end of our valley. More
There are a tearfull of towns
driving a deep-seated hide by
at a full five over the posted.
In the shadows of the night,
When sorrow tries to take its might.
My friends are like shining beacons,
Erasing my pain and my demons.