Saturday, October 22, 2011

I
Somehow you still manage to splash across the pages of my day in aquamarine.
II
His voice flowed down the walls of the fortress
echoing over the vast lawns
stirring the blades of grass with life anew
awakening the long-sleeping dead with its mournful poetry
and in the yawning caverns of its musty halls
sending a shiver of recognition.
Life beyond the afterlife.
III
Riding the brown horse across the blue sky-laden desert
hearing the wind sing the litany of freedom.