Now that it's started again
6/16/2005
Like falling angels
With broken harps
We are an echo
in the clouds
You lie still,
growing fat and celestial
in the center of the earth
Against the long narrow vein
of gold that feeds you
sheltered from the sun
and the rain
Now I see the foothills of death
They creep in waves of shallow breath
But let it come slow and sure
Let it crawl like an old dog
to the rug in front of the fire
to lay you down and sleep for good
posted by Edward Svengali @ Thursday, June 16, 2005,
