Night is falling,
A more innocent age.
I read you what I’ve written
Expecting to feel like a blank page,
But the two of us are quiet.
Water gallops under the rocks,
Too simple to be pious,
So many stones, so much light.
Loneliness is locomotive
On its way to the tropics of desire,
So I close my eyes for a moment.
Picture the scenery there.
I guess, I’ve become more human
Because I feel things blow,
And I don’t believe they’re as much trapped
Into a situation they don’t want to be in
As much as they’re maybe just letting go…..
With all the confusion that is man and woman,
All the autumn that can feel like death,
All the winter ground that is uneven,
Sunken in by weighty snow,
I can tell by my shivers
The sun is getting low.
I can tell by my silence
I have a long way to go.
Although, here in this almost darkness,
There’s some part of me
I’m getting to know.
The part that says hi to the good things
And just let’s the breeze blow.