Monday, February 25, 2013


If only on my knees I seek you
Forbidding summer breeze to greet you
If my only song of yours is
Church bells ringing out their chorus
A backward leap then have I taken
With broken wings my heart mistaken
But if by chance it comes to pass
I hear your whispers in the grass
And see you standing right beside me
A twisting crook, a knotted pine tree
And taste you in the salted grains
Grown upon the Western Plains
Then like a telescope to Mars
I’ll see more clearly who you are

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