Sunday, May 8, 2011

These Winds are Changing

These winds are changing.
Into good, so she told her self.
365 days, she's become a new bird.
Purple violets,
They smear into the cloud castles.
Rain is in the air.
Like clean paper,
Her paper soon fills with daydreams.
They fly off;
Like her, a bird,
To the other side of the rainbow.
Blue skys here,
Its raining over there.
Is it here or there?
Waiting by the apple tree.
Must hurry before the apple tree
cedar rusts...

No comments:

Post a Comment