Comments about Sherry Asbury
Angels And Gnats
The angels flit about, holy gnats waiting
for me to lay down my sword and admit defeat.
Lovely are their songs, their wings whisper in my ear.
But there is naught they can tempt me with...
For this tattered body clings tenaciously to its root,
unwilling to accept pronouncements earthly bound.
Where I fly, I file no flight plan, log no log.
Where I fly my lunatic heart soars me there swiftly.
As years became barnacles I could not scrape away,
so did my mind wander and collect its own parasites.
It flowered and pollen from many nations adhered ...