I was pointing the moon out just the other night
saw my finger instead and i wondered which was right
cause its looking that way
and not the other looking back
makes it all come together
ashen white to neon black
and Tom Waits on the radio
hoping not to fall for you
while i sang in pieces
the way all old lovers do
cause its looking that way
and not the other looking back
makes it all come together
ashen white to neon black
I sat around sun clad. drank in the dogged dawn
seven breezes brought me butterflies
couldn't bring your scent along
cause its looking that way
and not the other looking back
makes it all come together
ashen white to neon black
Seven breezes brought me butterflies They could not bring your scent along Exquisite! ! ! Curtis Beautiful zen poem
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wow! With its rhythm sounds like a French Rondeau in Alexandrine. I'll add this to my favourite poems' list. Bowled over by it and Norah's comments, I second.
thanks Tom. There is a certain creative satisfaction that comes from working in rhyme. Like all my rhymed efforts, this one was put to music.