Jerry Pike Poems
|83.||Let's Get Lost....For Chet Baker, Jazz Man||1/3/2008|
|84.||Are You Happy With It?||5/31/2007|
|86.||Little Gold Box||7/20/2007|
|87.||The Guns Of Navarone||6/1/2008|
|88.||Snow Is On The Rise Boys||4/6/2008|
|92.||I Think I Am Close||3/27/2008|
|93.||Don'T Fall In Love||1/22/2008|
|95.||A Life In The Day||2/18/2007|
|99.||A Film Star In Babylon||10/17/2007|
|101.||And I Will Whisper||5/13/2006|
|102.||A Late Bird||8/9/2008|
A Late Bird
A late bird, your song flutters, heart to heart.
I see notes hanging from telephone wires,
then falling softly into the deep grass.
And I lay there, staring out of this world,
into another’s sky, where perhaps you might
be laying, and I ask, who are you?
Over and over, and we drift,
making people out of wishes,
filling skies with cherry blossom
and fancy silken hopes, misplacing spilt dreams,
then throwing a coat down to hide them,
not quite sure who will step on
into the future, and who will sink
out of sight, below that rising heaven.
There was one rode in, and one rode out,
below sodium trickles, of Saturday doubt,
under skies of lake purple, with pock marks of stars,
there was one road for nowhere and one for the cars.
There were tramlines of yellow and Morse code in white,
by the hill of a station that glowed into night,