When the rocks come in
I'll come tumbling down
Into the moorish wind of sound
Wind myself up, let myself down
And when the complete comes
I'll toss myself away
Leaving laughters loss
On its way far away
Dust in the dreams
Catapault awake
Away from me
Dust in my dreams
Caterpiller sleep
Lives met
When I'm awake
Tumbling down
Reaching out
Sent but not forgiven
Forest from my trees
Memory freeze
Tease thaw wake
Given.
Denis Streeter 1/6/11
I love this poem, Denis! It has a meloncholy sweetness to it. Iespecially love the first few lines:
ReplyDelete"When the rocks come in
I'll come tumbling down
Into the moorish wind of sound"