Sunday, November 16, 2008

What does she hide in her overcoat pockets?

Sing, sweet
Sing
Into this night,
which witnessed your only
love melt in weak eyes.

Sing soft like winter fluff,
Teardrops on index cards sing as her hair falls
In pace with this windy sky.

plane smooth her wooden front
spill oil on her bearings.

2 comments:

Tracey-Ann said...

This so is wistful and beautiful

Sing soft like winter fluff,
Teardrops on index cards sing as her hair falls
In pace with this windy sky.

SarahA said...

Oh I just love that title, you and your words? Yes too, but the title is the sort that will stay in my brain for awhile; quite awhile.