09 Aug Lurking at the Door

Posted at 12:51h in Poems by

For if you believe not in yourself anymore
Believe in the man who believes in you
O rising notes from a song of the air

Covered in coats and lurking at the door
Hugging tight in the sky burned-out blue
From a distant past today shall dare

Spirit, soul, want and will
Red river fox on the run for its life
The prowl of quiet snares may kill
Dust to dust, wet to wet, life to life
Morning comes and the day arrives
The last of things, o last of lives

For if you waxed your ears, bound your hands
You might catch a glimpse and realize
City birds, alley cats, forest girls sing for me

Seen toward an isle with the gorgeous sands
Why the good Lord gives twins for eyes
Because depth needs two just to be

Spirit, soul, want and will
I once meant somethings to someones
The hands of the clock start ticking still
Strung by the holes of our hearts as one
The fox sees not the snare’s disguise
The last of things, o last of lives

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