You, And I Poem by Eric Cockrell

september, and roses;
a lot of things turn grey.
and the book never read

stands alone on the shelf.
the clock ticks, scraping
against the walls of eternity.

part the Sea, or just walk
on the water, what difference?
lying naked on the rose petals,

or standing in the unemployment line.
the ghosts of Martin Luther King,
Jesus, and that old cat

who slept in my guitar case.
every ordinary moment, holy!
and small memories we leave behind

the real history of the human heart
tiny universes complete with
falling stars you, and i!