lone soldier.

maybe im alone

again

but maybe

im

just me,

caught between

your ragtime

and my

sulking

revere,

if days were

allowed

to turn

to nights

and nights

to turn

to

dust,

that sacred

polish

of

your sun

would wind

and turn

to

rust,

though maybe i

in

scared

small

nest

know just

what need

be done,

-if only

for

that

fighting breath

id learn

to take

as

one.

About lifeofawillow

lifeofawillow.wordpress.com
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s