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Literature Text
Tumbleweed, tumbleweed,
Why do you roam?
You go hither and thither,
Have you no home?
Tumbleweed, tumbleweed,
What do you seek?
Or are you just tired,
Of the desert so bleak?
Tumbleweed, tumbleweed,
Why don't you stay?
Why do you always go,
So very far away.
Why do you roam?
You go hither and thither,
Have you no home?
Tumbleweed, tumbleweed,
What do you seek?
Or are you just tired,
Of the desert so bleak?
Tumbleweed, tumbleweed,
Why don't you stay?
Why do you always go,
So very far away.
Literature
on the cusp
it is just that when i let go of you
when i let go
it's hard to remain that perfect without you.
--
the in-between of love, buds- so full of potential
our love is written in whispers on the pages
of a book which has not yet been opened.
--
that day, the sun had erased the last lines
of an unforgiving winter from my skin, i was renewed
olive skinned and feeling as if i had just fled the eternal
garden naked as i came- free, fallen.
--
the sky was dark;
nothing but the blood red smile of the moon
cut through the transient darkness of the night.
Literature
Lexicon
I found my old dictionary today.
The new one is sleek, modern. A quietly efficient affair.
No room for unwieldy clunk, like sentimentn. refined or tender emotion; manifestation of the higher or more refined feelings. or levity n. lightness of mind, character, or behavior; lack of appropriate seriousness or earnestness..
This old one, though, is well worn. Hazel green cover with a hint of blue.
Cracks abound, tangling in the weather loved pages. Nebulae pour through them, eviscerating the mundane with the profundity of it all.
Rust curls up in its crevices, stealing away the remorseless taste of time. I found the notes in the side, the ones w
Literature
Rolling
Rolling, frothing sea,
Raging like the storm in my mind.
The waves clap like thunder,
But no one else can feel the storm.
Finally the curtain closes,
The lights come back on,
And a zephyr calms the air.
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I have a tumbleweed for a Christmas tree.